


The Taming

by Synnefox



Series: Inevitability & Balance [1]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Author has chosen not to tag too much, Dominance, Drugs, F/M, Family, M/M, Manipulation, Multiverse, Murder Husbands, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnefox/pseuds/Synnefox
Summary: In all the versions of all the worlds, Hannibal Lecter is always beyond the control of man. Balance requires he be tamed.
Relationships: Will Graham/ OFC, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Inevitability & Balance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872565
Comments: 76
Kudos: 94





	1. A Meeting of the Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeey~ So! This fic is special to me and I'm really glad to be able to share it with the awesome fandom that is Hannibal and Fannibals! 
> 
> As is much of my work, this fic is a bit interactive. If you want the full experience, I suggest you click the youtube links to the music I was listening to when writing each chapter. It may really give you immersion to bring out the best feels.  
> For this chapter its: "Blinding" Be sure to click the link~
> 
> So let me know what you think!

### 

PROLOGUE: A MEETING OF THE MINDS

**_['Blinding'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=nek839Yo4tw&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov) _**

**_And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open._ **

Will’s eyes fluttered open, the line of that sleepy, heavy song rippling back to him in a wavy slowed refrain. As if to show him of its aptness to this moment.

“Oh poor baby, look at you.” Blinking didn’t help correct Will’s perception, even as he did it; and if reality wasn’t upending itself, he was indeed looking at his own face hovering above him. His mute astonishment must have translated as just that. “Oh, yes, well I’m sure this is shocking. Look, take it easy, you’re not hallucinating, though I know that’s not going to make you feel any surer.” There was a distinctive, familiar drawl there that Will could have sworn he’d escaped.

Will reached out a hand and – yep this … version of him was solid so… Actually, he didn’t know what that meant. “What.” He declared.

“Poor thing. Here, come on, sit up.” Will blinked as this _other_ version of him helped him up from the …grass?

“Where-?” He looked around. Was this a lake? Blue-grey water seemed both flowing and not. It was oddly both sunny and foggy and muted like an old war-era photo. There were the average nature noises of chirps and moving branches but Will saw no animals. He turned his head further left an almost shouted. There was a third…him.

“Uh, hey.” Third him gave a shrugged wave looking as confused as Will knew himself to look. Oh. This one was younger; he could tell by the neatness of his hair cut and baby-faced smoothness of a close shave. Back when Will still gave a damn about how he looked. He turned back to the second him. This one was around his age, he had longer hair though, if the neat manbun was any indication. He also wore his beard neatly trimmed and was doing something about those unruly eyebrows they shared. Will’s brows went up when he noticed a small gold ring clamped on the other’s lower left ear. Okay…

“Can you tell?” The second asked with a smirk. God, did he always look so smug?

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Where are we?” Because there were definitely two other versions of himself here. Whether he was hallucinating and finally off his fucking rocker didn’t matter; they were here.

“That’s…actually harder to answer than _how_ we got here. Suffice to say it’s like…our astral plane. Its specific to us, iterations of us.” The second one shrugged and folded his legs casually. “It doesn’t really matter how we end up, some parts are always going to stay the same. We’re always going to be an empathetic, only child that encounters a monster at some point in our lives.”

With that Will looked up. “A monster?”

The second waved the third over. “You know who I’m talking about. This one doesn’t. Hasn’t met him yet.”

“That sounds ominous.” The third one snarked, though his big eyes shifted back and forth between them.

Will also looked between them before settling on the second. “And you?”

He gave a dark quirky smile. “I tamed mine. I’m guessing by that prison outfit you haven’t gotten around to doing the same.”

Will looked down. He was indeed in his prison suit. It was grounding. He swallowed, somehow embarrassed. “No.”

It was silent for a while until the second one declared. “Call me William, its what most of my colleagues call me so I’m inured to it. That one-“ He pointed the youngest one. “Can be Willy.”

“Ugh, I hate that.” Willy said resigned.

“I know.” William smirked.

Will gave a sigh. “So I’m still asleep and this is a dream? On an astral plane?” He didn’t know why he was taking this as well as he was. It seemed right, settled in his bones just as surely as the immediate affection he felt for any canine he encountered.

“No,” William corrected. “You’re not dreaming, you’re walking. You’re out of your body. It’s different because right now, even if the building burns down around you, as long as you’re here, nothing and no one can wake you up.” He gave a stern shake of his head. “You stay too long and you’ll look like you dropped into a coma. Your brain will show activity, but you won’t wake.”

Something in Will wanted to be intimidated by this but just wasn’t. “Better here than there.” He found himself saying. He was only ten percent surprised to realize he meant it. He would give a lot to be anywhere than where Hannibal had put him.

“That bad?” William asked sympathetic.

“What’d you do?” Willy asked. Though he too looked sympathetic…like he somehow already knew.

“Nothing.” Will let his shoulders drop and leaned back against a convenient tree, even its bark was muted in texture and color. “The monster put me there.”

Willy took a breath to speak, shifted nervously and then tried again. He nodded, “You in a psych ward?”

Will nodded. “Charged with multiple counts of first-degree murder.”

William sighed and shook his head. “I would have killed him.”

“I tried.” Will lilted. He gave a shrug. “Probably didn’t help my case. The encephalitis did, though. Its why I’m in a psych ward at all.”

“Who is this guy?” Willy asked sounding truly nervous.

Will and William shared a look. “The monster, is our soulmate, Hannibal Lecter.” William confessed with a low breathless tone, his irreverence seeming to drown under the weight of truth.

Will felt a jolt at the word _soulmate_ but like everything else it seemed right, felt right, so he moved on. “Should you be telling him this?” Will wondered, wasn't there some type of rule about changing timelines or some such?

“It won't suit for him to end up like you.” William nodded to Willy and cut his hand through the air. “Better he know now and can prepare. Besides, ain’t no getting out of it. Someway, somehow he will find you.”

“Wait, he's our soulmate?” Willy sounded panicked, his voice cracking near the end.

“Look, you’ve got time, I can’t focus on you right now.” William waved his hand at Willy. “It’s you that I’m worried about.” He looked at Will for a moment, still and peering like Will knows they can be at times. “How’s the trial going? Is he just leaving you in there by yourself?” He seemed confused.

Will sighed looking over to the peaceful stillness of the river. The water burbled and shimmered with lights as if filled with lightning bugs. “He’s visited once so far. Some bullshit mix between taunting and insinuating I forgive him for this.” Will felt his lip curl. “Some half-ass attempt to convince me of what I know is wrong; I’m pretty sure he didn’t even actually want me to believe him.”

William’s head tilted slightly. “Well he’s not wrong about forgiving him.” And when Will looked at him incredulously, he waved his hand again. “You will; accepting that eliminates a lot of back and forth emotional bullshit. What you need to be focusing on is taming him and making him _earn_ his forgiveness.” He shook his head and lowered his voice. “Rule number one about that fucker; never let him think you’re _cheap_. We might not be all hoity toity with his old-money bullshit but what he wants--what he _really wants_ from us? Oh, thats gotta cost him.”

Will was confused. “Is that how you tamed yours?” Something isn’t right. “Wait. You said ‘tamed’, you mean…?”

William sat back and looked a touch smug. “Hannibal and I are married with three children; I’m the dean of the forensics program at GWU and he’s the stay at home parent.”

Will gaped at this knowledge. Even Willy made a confused aborted chirp, hands askance in the attempt to understand. “You _married_ him?” Willy asked.

“I did.” William nodded decisively. “And now he cooks and cleans and keeps the kids. If he steps even a toe out of line I yank his ass right back.” He leaned forward again, impressing his fervency to Will. “I am ruthless with him because that is what he respects. Hannibal is the type of animal that doesn’t prize weakness, he eats it.”

“Oh my God.” Will felt his insides squirm at both the horror and brilliancy of it all. A family…with Hannibal. Will hadn’t had a family in quite a long while. “But how…Is he – uh, content?”

William sat back and bit his lip, something Will hadn’t done since he was a teenager. “Every now and then, for real special occasions, I’ll let him out to … hunt, so to speak.” He took a deep breath and stiffened his spine. “I give him a few days to do his business. The rule is that it never reaches the house and if he wants to…partake…its never with the kids around. Usually he’ll time _dinner_ with our date nights.” William was sure to look Will in his eyes. “I don’t hunt, but I do partake with him, it keeps him satisfied.”

Willy looked positively green. “Are we…are we talking about…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

Will was the one who answered, head thunking back against his tree. “Yes, our soulmate is a psychopathic cannibal.”

“Oh fuck.” Willy fell onto his back and rolled over. William patted him on the ankle.

It was quiet for a bit. “I don’t see how I can get to where you’re at.” Will confessed. He didn’t even try to get upset or deny anything. It seemed prudent to be as productive as possible in this limbo; William’s perspective was valuable.

“It’s not over yet.” William scooted closer. “I’m surprised he’s showing as much restraint as he is; I know he wants to see you. You know it too. You need to leverage that, Will. You’re the most valuable thing you have and he craves. You need to lure; you know how to do that. It’s one of the things we’re always good at.” He looked over. “That goes for you too Willy.”

“Lure him?” Will knew instinctively this was the best way to handle Hannibal but his options…he rubbed at his eyes. “From the psych ward? I – uh,”

“It’s the best place really.” William raised a manicured brow. “He has limited, scheduled access to you.” He rested his forehead against Will’s so that Will had no choice but to stare into his own mishmash of blue-green eyes. “You make him aware of your potential.” William growled out; and even Willy sat up to listen. “You dangle yourself just low enough for him to get a taste. You make sure he’s aware that what he’s done requires _penance._ And you make him pay.”

Will blinked slowly, plans forming as if by osmosis from his other self. “Well now, that sounds doable.”


	2. Two Steps in Two Directions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyaw y'all. Lets get into it. This chapter's mood is 'SameOl'Mistakes' hit repeat~

### 

CHAPTER TWO: TWO STEPS IN TWO DIRECTIONS

['SameOl'Mistakes'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=yi1Ef5cTNks&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Will didn’t prefer the use of his full name William, but he was glad it didn’t make his eye tic like it used to. After talking the other two back to their respective planes of the multiverse he allowed himself to recede back into his body. Of course he would open his eyes to his husband hovering over him as still as the raptor he was. He always could tell when Will was gone.

“You went walking again?” He never really sounded quite approving, but Will knew why.

“I wasn’t gone longer than usual, was I?” He sat up noting it was nearing five in the morning. He’d made good time, he still had an hour or so left to relax.

“No.” Hannibal leaned away just enough for Will to sit up without clocking their heads together. “No longer than usual.”

Will watched him for a while but decided against actively empathizing. Hannibal would tell when he was ready. “The kids?” He asked. Perhaps that would explain his husband’s pique, as bland as Hannibal would look to an outside observer.

“They are fine; asleep for now though I will wake them later.” Hannibal remained as still as the dead. It was quiet again for a while.

Will sighed and scooted back down. He reached out a hand to thread through the other man’s soft, salt and peppered hair and pulled Hannibal down to situate him right at his neck. Hannibal didn’t give one iota of fight; it was his favorite place on Will for obvious reasons. “I always come back.” Will lilted softly.

“So far.” Hannibal growled back.

* * *

“Daddy,” Hannaizah placed her fork down carefully and clutched her linen napkin while looking up through her lashes. Truly, Will was proud of her charming attempt at manipulation; if this was her at eight, he could only wonder what she would be like as an adult. “May I attend Lucy Wrather’s birthday sleepover? It’s this Friday evening.”

Will leaned back in his chair, he could see Hannibal blotting at his mouth delicately. “Do we know Lucy Wrather?” Both Hannibal and his eldest shared a discreet look. Ah. So it was one of those.

Han sniffed slightly and straightened in her chair. “Lucy’s Mommy is running for governor this year, I think. Um…” Will watched her blink as if she was going over notes in her head. If his husband was involved, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were indeed note cards stashed along somewhere from rehearsal. “Lucy’s Daddy is the journalist from the _Sun_ paper, but you like the _Sun_ right?” She ended hopefully.

And there was the rub. “Ugh, journalists.” Will threw his own linen napkin at his empty plate. “You know they’re going to think you attending is open season to invite themselves over, right?” He was directing this more to Hannibal than Han though he kept his no-nonsense gaze on her. Look at his little girl, she was holding up pretty well.

“Darling, they are hardly going to carol outside the door until we let them in.” Hannibal seemed amused as always. Of course he was, he wasn’t the one constantly being harassed.

“And just how important is this Lucy’s birthday sleepover anyway? How long have you known her?” It was a valid question since Han only spent a quarter of her time in a schooling institution and that was mainly for social interactions like P.E. For the most part she was homeschooled and tutored; she was far too past her peers for regular curriculums. Will spared a glance at Hannibal who was helping one of the twins quietly cut up the last of their mini patties; for six year olds they were using the heavy silverware admirably.

“Lucy was my second friend ever, Daddy. I told you this, remember?” Han seemed to be trying not to pout, all sleek dark hair and big blue eyes.

“Hmm, and you’re just finding out about this Friday sleep over, today on a Monday?” Will was suspicious.

“Well…” She made eye contact with her Father again before glancing back to Will. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go for sure last week, but today she was telling me how fun its going to be so I decided I wanted to go.”

Will sighed. Well there was no way to _disprove_ her alibi, though he was sure his husband had something to do with that. Ugh, journalists. “Fine. But they are not invited here, I don’t care for what reason. And I don’t care who’s getting elected for what either, understand me, baby girl?”

Han beamed. “Yes Daddy!”

“Yay!” Dorian cheered her elder sister. Han leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Jakob cheered as well from across the table. Now that Han had won her trial the heavy silence was filled with chatter about the room.

Later, when Will was sitting in bed on his laptop going over endless edits to his professors’ submissions, and Hannibal was leaving their ensuite, Will pounced.

“And how are you feeling, my dear cannibal?” He didn’t glance up from his work, but his voice was firm and unyielding. This question was one he asked every other month or so and expected an honest answer or there would be hell.

Hannibal licked his lips and seemed to contemplate. “A tad restless, but nothing I can’t ignore for now. As it is, I happen to know Miss Wrather would also like to spend the night here at Casa Lecter in the near future.” He crawled into bed as Will gave an exasperated sigh. “It wouldn’t do to stir any pots just yet. Besides, do you even have anyone on your little black docket?”

It was something Will had decided not to share with his other iterations; the fact that Will was the one who collected Hannibal’s potential meals. It kept his husband firmly leashed, satisfied with the limit of Will’s involvement and not looking to rock the boat any time soon. It was a small price to pay in his opinion. There was always a chance that his other versions might come to understand some day. It was, of course, a trick taught to him by other iterations.

“Hmm. Don’t you worry about that, just keep me appraised.” Will leaned his head to the side, eyes firmly on his laptop as he presented his neck. His husband did as expected and pressed his lips reverently to his jugular; tiny licks and ghostly sucks up to his ear and down to his collar bone and back.

Will left him to occupy himself as he worked; Hannibal’s attention wasn’t so impacting or distracting that he couldn’t carry on. It was hard to express just how to handle a creature such as his husband. Will worried he hadn’t been able to give as good advice as his prison-bound version had desperately needed. How Hannibal needed firm handling but didn’t even know that himself. How it would be up to Will to teach his proud, isolated, wary monster of a soulmate how to _submit_ to Will’s better adjusted nature. How the best way to trap their monster was to follow some of the more pornographic examples of mating on the Nat Geo channel.

Will scoffed to himself. He still remembered one particular evening, before they had married, where Will had slapped Hannibal for some presumptuous shit he had done before disrobing on the spot and demanding Hannibal fuck him well for his wasted time. He’d slapped the man twice more that night if he wasn’t mistaken.

He was distracted by a snuffled growl, hands squeezing around his waist and on his thigh. Will smirked and arched a brow. “I’m **busy** Hannibal. You can have me when I’m done.” He kept his tone soft but strict.

The older man grumbled but calmed back to his soft neck kisses.

Will sighed and decided he would finish up this last one and tend to his husband. It wouldn’t do for the man to start feeling neglected after all.

* * *

**_Feel like a brand new person (but you make the same mistakes)._ **

Will woke but didn’t open his eyes. He could tell by the smell alone he was back in his hell-on-earth hole of a cell. Here where his _soulmate_ had dumped him. So much, made so much sense to him now, but if he was forced to try to explain it to someone else, he knew he couldn’t. How he’d felt like all the hairs on his body had stood the first time he’d laid eyes on that treacherous monster in Jack’s office. How confused he’d been the first morning he’d woken hard and aching from a vivid dream of Hannibal’s teeth in his flesh. How he’d tried so hard to keep things professional, and then just civil and polite, and then friendly all while ignoring all his warning bells. How much he hurt, he hurt so badly from the knowledge that he was only here because of Hannibal.

It made sense; he was just surprised he’d needed to hear it from alternate dimension versions of himself or whatever the fuck they were. He wasn’t even sure he hadn’t dreamt or hallucinated that experience but either way he would take it. He needed something, a mission, a goal to keep the demons and shadows and _Garret Jacob fucking Hobbs_ away.

So Will did something he did well. He analyzed. He thought. He waded in his stream and wasted his day away. He wasted another day away just the same. And another and another until finally he was informed he had one Dr. Lecter arriving imminently.

Will wished he’d had more time with William, to better get a playbook of _how_ he had possibly tamed a man like Hannibal Lecter. But he hadn’t and so far Will hadn’t been back. So Will had figured like any good hypothetical experiment, first a test was in order. Being in this place allowed him some explainable freedom of acting different, but he would need to be careful to straddle the line of coy with fake. Thank God he’d always been a bit of a smartass.

“Will.” Called to him from his right.

He gave it a moment, hands gripping the shitty mattress between his thighs, and hanged his head. After a minute or two he raised his head just enough to cut his eyes up and over through his lashes and hair. “Yes, Dr. Lecter?” He answered in soft lilt.

The doctor paused, seeming to not have expected any acknowledgement. He paced further to the right to get a better vantage of Will. “I know the question may seem trite, but how are you doing?”

Will tilted his head to the side, swept his eyes up and down the other man and then focused on the floor. “As well as you can imagine, Dr. Lecter.” He kept his tone soft.

Hannibal took the last step available in an effort to get closer and Will barely kept from smirking. “Are you being treated fairly? Are you eating?”

Will gave a soft chuckle. “Well, I’m sure by their estimation they are serving perfectly fair and balanced meals.” He shrugged a shoulder, eyes still down.

“And are you eating them?” Hannibal insisted.

Will swept his eyes back up and was still. “No, Dr. Lecter.”

The man took a deep breath and settled his coat. “I can tell. You are thinner than even the last time I saw you Will. You need to eat.”

Will tilted his head to the side in honest confusion. “What’s the point?”

“Will, you must take care of—”

Will stood with a sigh. “Doctor,” He walked over to lean against the wall at the foot of his bed, forcing Hannibal to walk back over. “Why do you care? You may have to lie to keep yourself from swapping places with me, but we both know you put me in here.” Will spoke quietly, too quietly for the corner microphone and camera to pick up. He blinked slowly, kept his posture non-threatening and borderline bored. “You don’t care about me Dr. Lecter. You didn’t have to do what you did. You put me in here just for sport and now you’ve come to gloat.” He shrugged. “Fine, gloat. Just don’t do it behind something as boring as faking worry over my diet.”

For a while Hannibal did nothing but drink Will in; his eyes roved constantly even as every other part of him was still as stone. Will looked off into the middle distance; he was careful not to pay the doctor too much attention but allow the older man to drink his fill from a careful couple feet away and separated by bars. But then the fucker had the audacity to reach through the bars and Will decided it was time to cut this visit short.

He let Hannibal cup his face and gently swipe his thumb over the apple of his cheek before he flicked his eyes up to lock with the dark ones across from him. “They’ll execute me, you know that?” Will enjoyed the slightest hitch in breath from the monster. “You don’t care about me Doctor. Look at where you’ve put me.” He stepped forward, nose nearly touching the bars. “Are you satisfied with this?”

Will walked back to his shitty little bed, laid down and retreated within himself.

Hannibal stood there for nearly forty more minutes before a guard came to collect him for the end of his hour long visit.

* * *

The steel chairs in the interview room were specifically designed to be uncomfortable, Will was certain. Or maybe it was just the sheer injustice of his life manifesting in the tension in his ass.

“Will, it doesn’t help you to be uncooperative.”

Will rolled his eyes at Jack. A notion he would never have done before the man allowed himself to be blinded by the truly garish and overdone production that was the evidence against him. Human remains, fishing lures? Really? “Honestly Jack, I’m ready to just let them decide what they want if it will get me from having to go through this stupid shit with you.” He waved his chained hands, honestly Jack was over eight weeks too late in Will’s humble opinion. “Let the trail go as it will. And tell Alana to stop sending me letters that smell like Hannibal’s cologne.”

Jack sputtered for a moment. “Will! Your pettiness is really going to be the thing that kills you? Alana Bloom is one of your main champions in your insanity defense. What she does in her personal life is none of your concern.”

Will arched his brow, staring at the shiny chrome table. “You’d be surprised.”

“I can’t believe this.” Jack waved a thick manilla envelope around. “I’m telling you there _is no trial._ The damned judge was strung up a-la-Chesapeake Ripper style with identical fishing line and knots used in the evidence made against you. If you would just take a look at these.” He slammed the folder down and opened it with a flourish.

Will turned away. He knew what helping on this case would involve. He’d have to sign paperwork that absolved the organization of any wrongful incarceration suits and Will just wasn’t sure he wanted to get rid of those cards yet.

“You fucked up Jack. I know it, you know it, your superiors know and soon the public will know it. I’m not helping you cover it up.”

“What was I supposed to do!?” The man shouted spinning dramatically. “They found buckets of evidence all over you and your house Will. You threw up Abigail Hobbs ear! You tell me what I should have done. Taken your word for it? You didn’t even know your ass from your shoulders, you were sick.”

Will huffed out of his nose. “I told you I was framed.” He muttered sullenly.

“Yes, and that Hannibal Lecter was both the Copycat Killer and the Chesapeake Ripper.” Will didn’t reply. “Are you really telling me you’re going to pass up an opportunity to get yourself out of here?”

Will scowled and bit his lip, hating that that nervous habit had managed to infiltrate its way back into his life. Finally, he sat up with a huff and attacked the pictures. It only took him a moment before he was spouting off theories and pointing out key details; there was no way any other profilers wouldn’t be able to confirm his profile. This was Hannibal’s work after all.

Two weeks later and he was being escorted toward BSHCI’s main lobby by a sullen guard. “We didn’t get to talk much Mr. Graham.” The young man said. Will would have ignored him if it weren’t for the proprietary hand on his shoulder. His body jerked and he turned on his heel to face the guard.

“Yes…well. No offense but I hope to never step foot in here again so…”

The man nodded, finally relinquishing his hold. “Doesn’t mean we might not see each other again.” He gave a shrug, his name tag read M. Brown. “Maybe get a drink without all the crazies around, huh?” When Will was mostly just still and quiet, he shrugged again. “Well, see you later Mr. Graham.”

Will watched him saunter off with an odd wobble in his stomach but he just genuinely didn’t have the time for random bull shit. He had a very tight window to get out of the BSHCI before the media frenzy or, worse, Hannibal showed up. Because his wallet only had seventeen dollars in it, he had a hell of a time convincing his taxi driver that, once they reached his house, he would indeed pay him for the trouble of driving him all the way out to Virginia.

Even worse was arriving home to Alana Bloom. No, perhaps worse yet was having to speak to her knowing she had moved from denying a relationship with him to sleeping with Hannibal while Hannibal was _his_ soulmate and, most likely, wasn’t truly attracted to her. He didn’t know who to pity more between the two of them. Perhaps the next time he saw William, if he ever saw him again, he’d ask if there was an awkward Alana Bloom shaped love triangle in his quadrant of the multiverse.

With both his dogs and his sanity, debatably, back, Will set to work really laying down the foundations of a good old-fashioned trap. He’d be starring as the lure of course. The cage would be domestic peace and as far as Will was concerned that was as lofty a goal to strive for as any.

First things first; Will needed to put on his home wrecking hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are looooove~~


	3. Clever is as Clever does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Three up and going. This chappie's mood is 'WinePonU' click the link and hit repeat~~

### 

CHAPTER THREE: CLEVER IS AS CLEVER DOES

['WinePonU'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=l5K_7dyXgk0&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Hannibal hadn’t had much hope for a family, not since his first one had been brutally ripped apart by fate herself. He’d been content to slake his thirst on the worthless of the land; why else were prey put on earth if not to be preyed upon? Even Hannibal himself had once been prey. He’d managed to escape but he wasn’t so arrogant as to not recognize the truth. There was nothing written that said prey must always stay prey.

Though, there should be something said, some warning put on paper about the dangers of docile predators as truly that is what his husband was.

Will Graham seems to everyone as an ever exasperated academic, snarky and lacking patience but overall a family man. A good man. Hannibal found it delicious that only he was privy to the truth.

Their meeting was something from a classic romance. Hannibal had been in New Orleans for a conference; naturally he’d sampled some of the local livestock, a rude contributor that he hadn’t been able to stand since the moment they’d met and had hoped the dangerous reputation of the sunken city would be enough to obscure motive. It had been reprehensibly impulsive of him but nearing ten years later in wedded bliss, Hannibal couldn’t find an ounce of him in regret.

He'd been sipping overpriced, burnt coffee in the upscale hotel lobby when a young officer had gestured at him while walking up. “Excuse me, sir? You stayin here?”

The man’s accent was soft spoken and charming while being completely at odds with the penetrating stare of blue-green eyes. “Yes, I am. How may I help you officer?”

The man nodded and was quiet for a moment. “You’re a part of the conference, right? Did you happen to know Mr. Rodney Patricks?”

“I knew of Mr. Patricks but we hadn’t spoken, no.”

The officer cocked his head just a bit, a small little smile quirking on his lips. “You wouldn’t happen to be lying to me would you, Mr. Lecter?”

Hannibal had felt every fiber of his being jolt, as if touched with a breath of electricity. He knew for certain he’d had yet to tell the man his name. He’d stood, somehow feeling the need to be on level footing with the smirking, light eyed man with short cherubic curls and a malicious giddiness to his mien. “Officer-”

The younger man had stepped closer suddenly, putting them into nearly intimate space, and produced a card with a flick of a wrist. “Officer Will Graham, here, for your…records.” Hannibal had taken it with a numb silence unsure who was prey at the moment. “Now I understand you won’t be here for very long Mr. Lecter so I’d appreciate any details you might could spare. I’m sure a few hours to collect your thoughts’ll be appreciated, and then you won’t mind givin’ me a call around, oh say, nine-ish?”

Hannibal’s head ticked slightly. “Nine at night? That is quite after business hours, is it not?”

“Oh yes, definitely. But I have a specific type of business with you and well…” The man’s small quirky smile slid quickly in and out of lasciviousness. “I think after hours’ll be best.”

Hannibal, who often interacted with his sexuality much like a tourist would move through a museum, felt a disconcerting amount of abrupt arousal and was immediately suspicious. This felt something like a trap. Hannibal glanced down at the card and wasn’t at all surprised to see only a phone number and name. “Of course Officer Graham. I’ll give you a call at nine exactly.”

He watched a sunny smile, looking quite sincere, take over the attractive young face before him. “Well then! That’s quite nice of you Mr. Lecter; I look forward to speaking with you soon. I’ll go ahead and let you get back to your coffee. Be seeing you.”

Hannibal remembers every moment of that hour long conversation over the phone: the scheduled date at a coffee shop the next afternoon: the promise of a decent local jazz spot the next night: the rushed and dirty hand job in an alley later that night. Oh, in hindsight, Hannibal can see how devious his man had been. For not even twenty four hours after that last taste of him, Hannibal hadn’t been able to find or hear from Will Graham until he’d been unhappily unpacking his bags back in Baltimore.

Will had never explained to Hannibal exactly what it was that allowed him to know what he did but Hannibal knew it had something to do with Will’s _walking_. It was something extraordinary; it made Will _more_ , greater than the millions of sheep milling about uselessly around the Earth. And Hannibal was enamored with all of his husband, even with the horrifying risk of Will losing his way hanging over their peaceful, idyllic little lives. His terror of waiting for the day Will may never wake again made Hannibal appreciate all the more every snarky word out of his gorgeous husband's mouth.

“You really like to try my patience, don’t you?” Speaking of his gorgeous husband. Hannibal felt himself freeze, not unlike a deer spooked in the woods.

“Pardon?” He tried innocently. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was Will was upset about, it could be any number of things he had orchestrating. 

He watched the slighter man stalk slowly into the room, softly closing the bedroom door behind him. “Why did Han just accidentally slip that she would be allowed to purchase new sheets for the guest bedroom?” Will was now level with Hannibal on his side of the bed. He held in a sigh; he would have to do better about teaching Hannaizah the art of discretion.

He cleared his throat. “Will, we can’t refuse the Wrather girl a reciprocal stay at our home. We are trying to encourage Han to develop friendships with her peers, yes?” This was the safest route Hannibal had planned; try as he might all others were doomed to failure.

“Yes, that’s not the issue I’m having.” Will calmly placed a proprietary hand on the tablet Hannibal had been perusing and set it aside. He began to climb into Hannibal’s lap. “When were you going to deign to inform me of this decision? When the Wrathers were sitting down with us for dinner?”

Hannibal couldn’t help his slight squirm, couldn’t help licking his lips; he loved dearly when Will focused so solely on him. “Of course not.” He let out a heavy exhale when Will placed both his elbows on Hannibal’s shoulders. “I was, of course, set to tell you in the morning. It has just been tentatively decided tonight.”

Will leaned in so he was speaking against Hannibal’s lips. “By who? Decided by who? Who did you speak with?” When Hannibal sensed a shifting in the air he didn’t respond. “Did you call her parents, Hannibal? Did you speak to them on the phone and think about how sure you were that this was going to annoy me greatly. Because you know that it will only be decent to have the parents over the house their only daughter will be staying the night in. So you’ll do your usual pomp and ceremony and wine and dine them while you bullshit and make me bullshit with you. And you know I’ll have to spend an endlessly long night pretending like I like them.” Will sank his hands into Hannibal’s hair and tightened both fists. “Like I give a fuck.”

“Will-”

Will shook him harshly once and Hannibal had to hold his breath to keep from moaning obscenely. “You thought this would be so _goddam funny_ , didn’t you?” When Hannibal only had it in him to breathe raggedly against his lips Will shook him again. “ _Didn’t you?”_ He growled.

“Yes.” Hannibal ran his hands up tension filled thighs and rutted; he keened softly. “Yes. They are set to arrive for dinner the day after tomorrow.”

Will was silent for a while as he did nothing but stare at him. “And when were you going to tell me?”

“Tomorrow at breakfast.” Hannibal confessed.

Will snorted and rolled back to standing. “Tentative my ass. Get your clothes off.” Hannibal took a moment to just breathe through the tremors lining his body ever so softly. He watched his husband toss his clothes off on the way to their ensuite bathroom. “Now, Hannibal. Come bathe me.”

Conversely, this made Hannibal a touch more nervous. Will knew very well how much Hannibal enjoyed bathing him and he just couldn’t imagine being _rewarded_ for his bad behavior. Still, he did as he was bid.

When Will was mostly submerged in their, admittedly, grandiose tub he held up a leg for Hannibal to scrub. Hannibal sat calmly on the flat lip of the tub, his feet tucked under Will’s body and his focus on both scrubbing and massaging his better half. “If this is some misguided attempt at revenge for my walking, you are fighting an uphill battle. I can no more control that than I can control the sunrise.”

Hannibal stilled momentarily and then sniffed in suspicion. “I’m sure you have a touch more control than that, my love.”

“I don’t.” Will shot back, eyes intent and heavy on him. “I’m pulled from my shell and placed where I’m needed Hannibal. That’s the way it goes.”

Hannibal felt his jaw tighten in displeasure. “You could fight it at the very-”

“Last time I did that I lost time, Hannibal.” Will took his leg back and leaned up and forward. “A week where my Daddy didn’t know if he was gonna have to bury me because we couldn’t afford to have me on life support much longer.” He felt his lungs seize in a sort of panic at the thought; Will cupped his face and gave him a small shake. “Maybe before I would have done it just to show you but now that we have children I won’t. Not even for you; not ever again.” Will waited for that to sink into him. “You understand me?”

Hannibal lowered his gaze; it was what was due. “Yes, my love.”

“Good, now finish washing me, please.”

In bed, with his damp towel over the duvet, Will bid him to use his mouth; an act Hannibal especially loved. “Mmm, don’t you spill a drop, you hear me?” Hannibal nearly scoffed, had he not been otherwise occupied; he had yet to spill a drop of Will’s seed in many years since he’d had the pleasure of it. With legs wide and heels on Hannibal’s shoulders, Will was a picture of erotic abandon. Hannibal decided to sketch it later in one of the hidden sketch books he had lying around the house waiting for Will to happen upon them; all of their pages filled with torrid pose after torrid pose of his husband.

“That’s it, yes baby, Uuuhhh.” Hannibal took him deep and began to continuously swallow. Like clockwork Will’s hands clenched in his hair while he rode his face and came. Hannibal was as dutiful as ever in cleaning Will with his tongue. When finally, Will staggered himself up on his elbows, he arched a brow. “You think you deserve to come tonight?”

Hannibal carefully licked all around and in, his mouth while he thought. Of course he wanted to, his erection was nearly painful at this point. But would admitting this help or hinder him? Even while nearing ten years of marriage it was always so hard to tell with Will. “Perhaps…” he hedged. “Not by your hand…”

“Oh?” Will sat up all the way. “Then by whose? Every inch of you belongs to me Hannibal, that’s been the deal a long time now, so tell me. Whose hand, yours? That belongs to me too.”

Hannibal felt himself flush. More than being used for his husband’s pleasure, it was the blatant possessiveness that always stirred him up. “Of course, I understand Will.” He had to pause to swallow. “I am…aching, but if you would rather I can wait until tomorrow.” He both hated and loved the idea of being made to wait.

Will scoffed and stared at him. “And you think tomorrow’s when I’m going to feel more forgiving? You’ve kind of fucked yourself over for the rest of the week, haven’t you?” When Hannibal just gave an unhappy huff he reiterated. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Hannibal was made to spend eons long minutes while his husband watched him do his best to affect a calm he didn’t have.

Finally Will came to some sort of decision as pushed up against him and bit harshly on his neck. High up on his neck. A hand appeared abruptly and pulled down his foreskin while another fisted the head of his cock relentlessly. “I’m not going to waste time making this good for you when you don’t deserve it Hannibal. Come.”

Hannibal hands pulled at Will’s shoulders, his back, his neck any part of him he could reach while he shook in bliss. “My love, my love, mylimasis.” He murmured and chanted.

“Hmm.” Will hummed while he pulled back and wiped his hands on the towel. “Come on, lets go to bed. I hope you’re quite through with you temper tantrum.”

“Of course, dear.” Hannibal kissed him devoutly on his cheek then tidied up and retrieved a pair of boxer briefs for Will and pajama pants for himself. Unfortunately, he still had to rise and talk the twins down from night terrors rather regularly; it paid to wear pants during the night.

When everything had settled into the warm hazy dark that was his contentment Will mumbled to him. “You must know I would never willingly leave you and our children, our life, Hannibal. If you have faith in nothing else, have faith in that.”

Hannibal held him as he drifted off to sleep. He knew this and yet something in him could not help but keep silent watch until well past the midnight hours.

* * *

Hannibal paced the comfortable confines of his office in thought. Will hadn’t called him, hadn’t emailed him, had made no indication whatsoever how he felt about Hannibal’s releasing him from the asylum. And between the two of them it was no secret, that it had indeed been Hannibal who had done so.

He paced, tapping his phone against his lip. To move or not to move? Fortune did favor the bold, but power was in the pursued not the pursuer. It wouldn’t do to let Will dictate the pace of this little game between them and Hannibal had no doubt that both of them were playing.

Somehow, someway, Will had found out how much Hannibal _considered_ him; must have read from his aura like a bloody fortune teller. It was the only explanation for that little display in Will’s cell or so Hannibal rathered than the idea of Will truly becoming so apathetic to life that he wasn’t willing to play anymore. He could never be quite sure with Will.

William. His war deity and cunningly disguised wolf. All big, blurry blue eyes and big brown curls. A truly cherubic seeming predator, so different from Hannibal’s angular face and statuesque physique. It was something the doctor was aware of, that he could only paint over himself but so much. No matter how polite he was, the human hindbrain took note, and the simpler minded were justifiably wary of the monster Hannibal hid beneath his plaid-patterned, person-suit.

His phone gave a discreet and convenient buzz. Ah, Alana. Not so convenient; what was to be done about her? She was asking to drop by before he left for home as she hadn’t seen him in a few days and wouldn’t be able to stay the night either. Good, he was preoccupied and in no mood to cater to her. He acknowledged her text and continued to pace, one eye on the time. It was nearing seven-thirty and it was Thursday, normally he would be seeing his favorite patient about now. He let himself ruminate for another minute or two before going to open his door so he might hear Alana as she arrived.

There on the other side of the door was his favorite patient. “Will.” He said out of reflex.

The younger man turned and his smartly colored shirt and fresh hair cut were instantly infatuating. “Dr. Lecter.” He drawled. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to see me at all.” Will seemed to blink innocently. “That is, if you still have my standing appointment open?”

“I do.” Hannibal gripped his door before moving smoothly to the side. “Please, come in.”

Will nodded and stepped forward just as the outer door opened and Alana stepped in. The younger man paused to look over his shoulder, his long neck distractingly close and open; Hannibal had to drag his eyes off it. “Alana, apologies, I had not realized Will was here for his standing appointment. Please, let me walk you back out to your car.”

She blinked, looking stunned. “Will?” When he simply looked at her without answering she continued. “You’re here, of all places? Weren’t you just trying to convince Jack that Hannibal was dangerous to both you and the public at large?” She sounded both agog and affronted.

Hannibal kept himself from smirking in amusement, but it was a near thing. He was surprised when Will, normally a much more physically distant individual, moved closer to Hannibal in order to access the office and shrugged. “That’s what I’m here to talk about.” It was dismissive, shockingly so, and forced Hannibal to assuage Alana all the way back to her car, resentful of every moment wasted.

Back in his office, Will had taken it to seat himself in Hannibal’s desk chair. “Dr Lecter, how kind of you to have me. I’m hoping you’re not adverse to me resuming my therapy?”

Hannibal closed his door, aware that he had not had time to set up his recorders about the room. Ah, well. “Of course, Will. My door is always open to you, assuming you are not going to attempt to shoot me again.”

Will smirked at him. “Not today, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal corralled his urge to grasp at that lithe body. “I’m glad to hear it.” He began a slow pace toward the desk. “I think, at this point Will, we can dispense with formalities, don’t you? Please feel free to call me by my name.”

“I don’t know about that, Doctor. I usually only reserve that sort of familiarity for friends.”

Hannibal felt his face pull in a slight frown. “Are we not friends, Will?”

Will shrugged. “Friends don’t imprison friends, Doctor. Don’t irreparably harm their psyche; don’t kill their pseudo-daughter acquaintances. Friends don’t _hurt me._ ” Hannibal, unfortunately, didn’t have anything immediately prepared to rejoin the genuine pain in Will’s voice so the silence rested for a moment. “You really hurt me, Doctor. I don’t think you’re my friend. Do you?”

As uncomfortable as Will was seeking to make him, Hannibal could only be thrilled with the full and hot feeling of Will Graham making prolonged eye contact. “You are accusing me of framing you, yes? Tell me Will, what would be my motive for doing this?”

The younger man gave a harsh laugh and stood up abruptly. “Oh we are not doing this, we are not goddamn getting ready to do this. What do you need, huh?” Will asked, walking around the desk to approach Hannibal. “To frisk me? Make sure I’m not wearing a wire? Not here to set you up? Go ahead.” He stopped only a breath away. “But you are not going to waste my time with that circuitous, hypothetical bullshit or I am out of here for the very last time.” He spread his arms with a sarcastic tilt to his head. “So?”

Hannibal would no sooner turn down the offer than turn away Will himself. He began by placing his flat palms across steady, if smaller shoulders than his own. He used his fingers to knead along Will’s arms outwardly until he was holding both wrists and paused. With a still face he met the other’s gaze and slowly pushed those wrists down and back until they were crossed at Will’s back. He watched the other man’s eyes widen, dilate and blink. He watched Will swallow heavily but remain still and silent. Hannibal let go and just looked on a moment longer before placing his palms on collar bones. He could feel them through the heavy fabric of Will’s salmon colored shirt; he wasn’t eating still and that never failed to _distress_ Hannibal.

He ran his palms down Will’s chest, straddling perfunctory duty and self-indulgence before he encountered a thick leather belt. He didn’t hesitate to insert one finger between the belt and pants and another finger between the pants and Will’s tucked in shirt. He ran them along the circumference of Will’s hips and applauded the man for not flinching an inch. He knelt, flattened both palms at Will’s right ankle and ran the hands up until one of them encountered the incidental weight of Will’s genitals. Then he heard hitched breath and watched an aborted step back. He switched legs, looked up to make eye contact, and did the exact same thing. Will kept his gaze, swallowed again and jerked his chin up in defiance.

Hannibal stood, stepped around his subject and placed palms on the shoulder blades of Will’s back. He admired the look of the other with his hands behind him, maybe someday he might really see them bound. Ah, one could dream. He patted him down and let his fingertips just barely skim the top of Will’s shapely derriere before stepping back. “Very well, Will. You have my unfiltered conversation.”

The other man huffed and turned. “Nice to know what it cost. I’m glad you didn’t cup me for how thorough you felt the need to be.”

Hannibal arched a brow. “Don’t tempt me.”

He watched Will splutter and blush with open amusement. “I’m _here_ to hear your explanation, Doctor. Perhaps even your apology, if you’re capable of one.” Will paced to his regular patient chair and sat heavily, an expectant expression on his face.

“What is it that will satisfy you, Will? I hardly think my true justifications will put us on a path to overcome this between us.”

“Which sounds like bullshit for you don’t want to apologize and you probably don’t even really have a reason. Do you?”

Hannibal paused, not expecting the other to sound so … accepting. Or perhaps resigned is a better word. “I was curious Will, with what you would do if placed in your greatest fear, in your worst hell.”

Will sat forward. “You ruined my life, because you were curious? Because you wanted me to face my fears of being detained in an asylum?” He was near snarling now.

Hannibal sat across from him, the chairs no more than three feet apart; they could both stretch out their legs and touch. “Hell, true hell, makes us over Will. Allows us ascend our limits and become our strongest selves. You’ve faced the horror of being admitted to the BSHCI, worse yet when there was no end date in sight. You’ve done this and conquered it. Do you not feel different than you did before? Are you not something greater than you were before?”

Will was quiet for some minutes, digesting and reflecting though his gimlet glare didn’t move from Hannibal. Finally he spoke. “So you’re trying to sell me the idea that it was your intent all along to both put me in and get me out?”

“Will, I always knew I was not going to have you there for long.”

The younger man slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair. “Three months is pretty fucking long, Hannibal!” He shouted springing up and pacing with a burst of energy. He spun and pointed at the doctor, his brown curls bopping about with how vociferously he was jabbing his hand. “You had no right! No right to do that to me, Hannibal! Three fucking months; you have no idea!” He sank his hands in his hair pulling in a way that made Hannibal fidget at the end of his seat. He wouldn’t let the man start harming himself. “Chilton and his self-important droning: Gideon with his shitpicking and that fucking guard getting handsy every time he got to drug me up.” Will turned back to him, eyes suspiciously bright though Hannibal saw no tears. “You did that to me! You did! And now you just want me to put that behind us? Huh?!”

Hannibal sank back into this chair as Will descended on him, both of Will’s arms caging him into the seat in what was, no doubt, supposed to be an intimidating display. He licked his lips and considered his response carefully. “I did not fully consider the injustices that would be done to you Will. Would that I could take the more indignant factors while still leaving you your metamorphosis, I would.” He looked up to make eye contact. “I am sorry for the indignities your faced. That was not my intent.”

Will watched him. “Your intent was just to put me through hell to make me stronger.”

“Yes.” He affirmed, hope blossoming in his chest.

“You’re a really shitty friend.”

Hannibal blinked. “This may be so.”

Will pushed up and away. “What are we going to do about this, Doctor?”

Hannibal sat up and straightened his clothing. “I suggest we carry on as we had been. Twice weekly appointments at seven-thirty.”

The other man scoffed. “I’m not paying you.”

He found himself chuckling. “I would not take money from a friend.”

“A friend.” Will repeated.

“Yes, in fact.” Hannibal stood and ambled over to the younger. “Come over for dinner again, next weekend, if you are available.”

Will arched a brow. “You telling me, or are you asking me?”

Hannibal smiled. “I am asking for your company.”

He was made to wait while Will seemed to weigh the benefits. “Alright fine. But I’m not subjecting myself to being you and Alana’s sad little third wheel, so you’ll have to get that figured out right now.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Not to fear, it shall be just you and I.”

He was delighted to see Will roll his eyes. “Yeah, whoopee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are looooove~~


	4. Worse than Fiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, reaching the midpoint here. This chappie is inspired by the slowed 'Skyfall' song. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

### 

CHAPTER FOUR: WORSE THAN FICTION

['Skyfall'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=1GOQTbzQEfs&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Will _hated_ the nickname ‘Willy’, ‘Willy-boy’ or any version thereof, but you try being named William in the deep South and see how long you could keep your dignity from the dumpster-fire that was ‘Willy’. Ugh. It didn’t help that Will was sort of…

He called it baby-faced, the sonsabitches in his officer program called it pretty. Whatever. It got him ass, tits and free drinks so Will wasn’t going to look a genetic gift horse in the mouth, fuck err’body else. He sucked his teeth, expertly chewing a toothpick, swirling a beer bottle and perusing the pamphlet packet in front of him, like the multi-tasking boss he was.

“You gonna go?” Derek, a buddy of his, asked. “Shiiiit, you even got the time?”

Will spit out his pick. “It’s cleared with the dean; you know how he likes to kiss NOPD’s ass from here to sundry. Finished up all my assignments a head a’ time anyway.”

Derek whistled and jostled a drunk cohort with his elbow. “Wooo boy, lookee Willy over achievin’ ass. I’m guessing you got the full fellowship then?”

Will took the last swig in his bottle and stood. “Yep!” he popped his ‘p’ obnoxiously and slammed the bottle down. “You just be glad you ain’t gotta keep licking Jefferson’s boots ‘erry time he wanna spit shine.”

Derek grimaced. “I certainly don envy you that.” He spat with derision. “Creepy ol’ bastard.”

Will slapped Derek on his back on the way out. “You ain’t wrong about that. I’ll be seeing you.”

He made good time back to Tulane’s student housing in his beat up Ford truck and scurried inside. Much as he liked to chew the fat and shoot the shit with his cohorts in NOPD’s young officer program, he really did have to stay right on top of his grades in Tulane’s forensic program or he would lose his scholarships. Neither he, nor his father, had worked this hard to get him where he was just for him to go squandering it.

Will’s outsides didn’t always reflect his insides; that was to say, he often had to act contrary to how he felt. Outside he was smiley, personable, helpful, flirtatious at times. Inside he was always tired, always stressed and would usually rather keep to himself. But far be it for him to complain; it was what had to be done for him to get where he was going.

He pulled the pamphlet packet out of his pocket and sat on his meager twin XL bed, in gratitude for this roommates’ predictable Friday night absenteeism. Will didn’t read it, he’d already memorized every word, no, he just let himself be proud for a moment. He’d done this. He’d made it within the top five percent of Tulane’s student body, applied to NOPD’s accelerated officer program, passed the fitness requirements and had been excelling at the program for over a year now. His hard work had paid off and now he was being accepted into an exclusive law enforcement fellowship and taking his first trip out the country.

He balled up his fists and pressed them just under his eyes; he told himself he wouldn’t cry. Shit. He wanted to call his daddy, thank him again, assure him not a penny was going to waste. But Beau Graham was a man’s man and would rather his son take everything with a stoic southern smirk. So Will sniffed, wiped his face, and carefully refolded the papers to store away. The European Forensics’ Consortium Lecture Tour started first in London, then went to Madrid, Paris, Florence, Zurich, Munich and then ended in Amsterdam. Seven major cities, seven major countries, in fifteen days. Will was anxious, excited and overwhelmed at the thought; he was being hosted through fellowship with only nine other young Americans. He was being recognized as exceptional for his merit and not for his…quirks, he’d call them.

And now that this was no longer a dream Jefferson kept suspended over his head, now that his name was finally on the paperwork, now Will allowed himself to start packing. To start dreaming. He could really do this!

He spent the rest of the night packing the best his wardrobe had to offer. Dark pants, button downs and polos, several dark casual shoes, a pair of dark formals. He carefully folded the only two jackets and ties he owned and was sure to include a comb and hair product with his toiletries. When he finally fell asleep sometime after his roommate returned in the morning, he dreamed of adventure. His flight was Tuesday morning from Louis Armstrong Intl Airport to JFK to meet the rest of his group and then to London.

So of course he was a high strung ball of nerves all weekend and called his father no less than four times.

“Boy, you gon be jus fine, quit all yer yammerin’.” Beau laughed at him, his drawl as rich and warm and comforting as Will needed. “You ya father’s son; ain’t nothing big enough or bad enough to shut you down. You jus go do what you s’posed to, ya hear? You’re a smart kid, Son, sharpest I ever seen. Don’t you forget that. Hear?”

Will stood outside the Louisianan airport and nodded superfluously though he clutched his phone all the harder. “Yes, Daddy. I hear you.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I’ll send you messages on Facebook, don’t know how much it’ll be to call from over there. Keep you posted.”

“You do that, boy.” Beau laughed again. “Don run up my phone bill, but you call me if you need me no matter where you are. Hear?”

“Yes Sir, I understand.”

“Good. I love you Son. Now you go’on.”

“Yes Sir.” Will whispered and ended the call. He’d have hated anyone else to be with him to see him so…emotional but, well…he was emotional. Fuck it. And a prep talk from his daddy had been just what he needed. It was easy to just take it as the adventure it was to be.

He'd never been to New York and was surprised by how awful it smelled. But it was big and bright as advertised. He met the rest of his crew, four more men and five women, and learned there was only two other Southerners, from Georgia and Texas and that everyone had indicated a future career goal to work within the FBI.

“So is this an FBI fellowship?” Joanne, the girl from Texas had asked.

“No idea, though, they probably wouldn’t advertise _all_ of their recruitment efforts. So maybe we’re on a second string of theirs.” Richard aka Rick, Will’s roommate throughout the tour and a fast talking Jersey native quipped.

Will pointed his overpriced, Starbucks mocha frapp with whipped cream, something he could never be caught dead with back home, at Rick. “That actually sounds really smart. Makes sense.”

The group chatted in a fancy lounge in JFK waiting for their redeye that would drop them off at Heathrow in the bright morning hour of seven am. There they would be meeting their organizer and spending the day getting adjusted before the welcome dinner at five. Will and Rick got on like a house on fire. Rick was snappy, tall and good looking with brown skin and big brown eyes. He was a genuinely friendly guy and also had a shared hatred for shitty nicknames, swearing to Will he’d spent most of his teens fighting anyone who called him ‘Dick’, on sight. Will had a better time on the flight than expected.

The first night in London went well. Will was enamored with the sights, underwhelmed with the cuisine and enjoyed greatly hearing from scholars on the famous ‘Jack the Ripper’ case. He listened intently, absorbed everything and even took notes here and there. The flight to Madrid was uneventful, though the business class seating was very nice; he felt luxurious, he felt learned, he felt accomplished and confident and wished desperately there was a way to bottle these feelings up and present them to his dad.

Will was getting plenty scholarships but Beau Graham was still working day and night to put his son through, not just school, but the path toward his dreams. It was up to Will to make something of himself if for no other reason than to honor the sacrifice of his father.

Madrid was rich in culture and the people were honestly…distracting. Will and Rick both lamented in the fact that they very well couldn’t go home with anyone and they couldn’t bring anyone back. There were _some_ rules after all.

It was Florence where shit went sideways.

When Will had enough bandwidth and wherewithal to use hindsight, a memory came to mind, eerily stated in his own voice: **“Better he know now and can prepare. Besides, ain’t no getting out of it. Someway, somehow he will find you.”**

Oh, how accurate that had been. They had arrived in Florence in the morning and had gotten settled by the afternoon. That evening was a seminar on gruesome Italian crime history with an insert of a recent artistic murder tableau that had stumped forensic experts as it had no usable evidence and had never led to a suspect. It had spooked the local populace and floundered the Italian detectives and police for the last few months. The currently held general consensus was that it had been a one off and hopefully the killer had moved on or was satisfied. Will had been oddly entranced by the, frankly, baroque and elaborate scene based off of a Botticelli painting. They had the next morning free, so Will had made plans to go and see the painting first hand.

When he had arrived, a young man had been sitting on the bench in front of the painting. He was no more than five or six years older than Will, with straight brown hair and tanned skin; he was sketching a replica of the scene. Something about him had made Will shiver, which he had found odd in the Italian heat. But he hadn't thought of that trippy night where he had argued with himself in a weird fugue-like plane of existence, in well over a month. He hadn’t been prepared. In fact, the dream/trip hadn’t come to mind at all; right up until the man sitting next to him on the bench had looked up and replied to Will’s introduction with -

“Hannibal. And yourself?” The man held his hand out.

Will had felt his eyes widen and his shoulders jerk in surprise and horror and when the man had cocked his head slightly, his unblinking eyes boring into Wills own, Will had known he’d fucked up. “W-Will.” He stuttered out and tremulously shook the hand.

“Will.” Hannibal repeated, a dead smile overtook his face. “You are American, Will?”

“Yes.” Will breathed out. Still turned toward the predator next to him on the seat. He was eternally grateful for the sounds of people passing by. He wondered if getting up and leaving now would be rude? William, that older version had said to avoid being rude. Shit, what else had they said? Will had been so sure he had just had a trippy ass dream, he hadn’t really put too much stock in thinking it over or actually _planning_ anything for this moment. He licked his lips; if he was remembering right Hannibal, was Hannibal Lecter, a serial killer and cannibal and his soulmate who would not hesitate to kill him until Will gave him a reason not to.

“And what brings you here, Will?” Hannibal closed his sketch book to further devote his attention to his neighbor.

“I’m uh, part of a lecture tour going through Europe. They had a m-” Shit. Will cleared his throat. “A murder.” He waved toward the painting. “Said it was based off this.” He finished weakly.

“Hmm.” Hannibal turned for a moment to survey the painting and then was back on Will. “Yes, I know the one. They never found the killer.”

Will nodded, finally turning to face the painting and ran a hand through his hair. He felt something between a cross of a pinned butterfly and imminently dead deer-in-headlights. “Tell me.” Hannibal began suddenly, shifting closer by a few inches and leaning forward even more. “You reacted strangely to my name, why was that?”

“Oh.” Will leaned back a bit. “Um, I’m sorry. I was just…” He stood putting his hands in front of him and giving his best self-deprecating smile. “It was surprising! I didn’t think anyone was still named that; after the Carthaginian conqueror, right? You must think terribly of me, I really didn’t mean to insult.” He took a few quick steps back when he saw Hannibal stand. “Anyway, I really have to be going, Hannibal. You have a good day!”

Will didn’t wait for a response; he beat the quickest retreat he could without running. He wasn’t sure if that was enough to sever their connection or not and he didn’t know the area well enough to wander about to try and throw Hannibal off his trail if he were trailing him. So with limited options Will went back to the inn. As it was, Florence was Will’s turn to get a solo room, and, wonders of wonders, the men of their group were all situated on the ground floor, not that the inn was so large anyway.

That night he made a bullshit excuse and gave his solo up to Rick, opting to bunk with Samuel and wait the night out under the bed if he had to. They were leaving for their early morning flight at five-thirty exactly. It was currently after midnight. Just a few more hours. Samuel was knocked out and Will was watching the door which was a rooky mistake because he damn near screamed bloody murder when a tap to his right had him come face to face with Hannibal outside his window. He jumped off the bed with a squeak and clocked how Hannibal’s eyes flitted over to Samuel in consideration. The other man looked held his unblinking face in the shadow of the moonlight and looked like something from the book of Revelations. He tapped the window again.

Something made Will throw his hands up in peace and slowly inch toward the window over the bed. He screwed up his courage, unlatched and inched it a little to the side. Now there was nothing but a screen separating them.

“H-Hannibal.” He greeted with a whisper and huge eyes.

“Hello, William Graham.” Hannibal replied unblinking. Will didn’t even bother to wonder how Hannibal had gotten his full name. “I should like to speak with you, if you would do me the favor of coming out here. I’d rather not invite myself into your room.” He looked again at Samuel.

Will felt himself shaking; he had to take a very deep breath just to speak. “Hannibal.” He tried again. “I’m leaving in the morning. In a few hours in fact.” He licked his lips took a breath and soldiered on. “I don’t-don’t want any problems. Don’t want to make any problems…for you. Do you understand?” Hannibal’s head tilted slightly in consideration. “I just want to go home to my dad. That’s it. Please.”

“You have a remarkable amount of insight that you _shouldn’t_ have, William Graham.” Hannibal stated politely.

Will nodded. “I…” He bit his lip, hoping this would work. “I sometimes know things.” He confessed. “I see them or-or read them off people.” He searched Hannibal’s eyes willing him to understand. “I don’t always get to chose when or where it happens it just…happens. Okay? Whatever’s happening here, in Florence, has nothing to do with me. I just want to go home.”

“Home.” Hannibal repeated. He was quiet for a moment. “And where is home, William?”

“Will.” He replied by rote. “And New Orleans. A long way away from here.” He didn’t dare lie.

“Louisiana. Is that where your pretty accent is from?” The other asked smoothly.

Will felt himself flush but he nodded. “Born and raised.”

They were both quiet for some time before Hannibal gave a gentlemanly nod. “Very well, Will Graham. I will take you for your word. Have a good evening.” And then he was turning on his heels and striding out of sight.

Will felt his knees give out and he sank down on the bed, suddenly panting like he’d run a race. He must not have been breathing regularly. Oh Jesus, he was beginning to understand that other asylum version better now, how he’d looked simultaneously terrified and awestruck whenever he’d mentioned his Hannibal. And they had both been older by at least ten years or so. Will honestly didn’t think he would have been able to survive an encounter with a decade older Hannibal Lecter; he was grateful to have survived this one.

He just wanted to get home and see his daddy.

* * *

Hannibal laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Florence had been growing dull to him for some time now and he hadn’t been sure what was next for him on the horizon. Truly, Hannibal was a favorite of Fate for she no sooner took notice of his lethargy than she dropped before him a Botticelli angel in the flesh. The sight of his flushed stammering had made Hannibal’s usually listless heart, stumble.

William Graham, an accomplished young academic getting his masters in forensics at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana. Or so the program organizer’s notes had said.

Hannibal smiled and strummed his fingers together. He would give the boy a three-month head start.


	5. Return to Sender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm nervous about this chapter, I really hope you guys like it. Let me know~
> 
> Completely inspired by 'Woo', hit repeat~~~

### 

CHAPTER FIVE: RETURN TO SENDER

['Woo'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=tJW3D-YuWDU&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Will opened his eyes serenely and smiled with success. He sat up and with a quick survey found just who he was looking for.

William, if that messy manbun and small, gold hoop earring was any indication, was just sitting up as well. “Ugh. This was quick, Hannibal’s gonna get pissy.” He sighed.

Will arched a brow at his other self. “He’s gonna get pissy, why?”

William turned to face him and crossed his legs. “He can always tell when I’m walking, don’t know how. I think the creepy fucker keeps track of my blood pressure while I’m sleeping.” He leaned back on his hands with an explosive sigh. “And usually I don’t get pulled here this quick, back to back.”

Will pulled at the muted, green colored grass. “Oh, uh, sorry then. That’s my fault.”

William blinked and then sat up abruptly. “What do you mean that’s your fault? You dragged us here?”

“Uh,” Will was alert now too. “Yeah. I did some reading up on astral projection. Tried meditating and picturing where I wanted to go and who I needed to see. Guess it worked.”

For a while William just blinked at him. “Huh.” He looked around. “No Willy I see.”

Will shrugged, “Guess not. Listen I need help, its why I tried so hard to get here.” When William nodded and focused again, Will took a deep breath. “Okay, so has your Hannibal ever had a relationship with a woman named Alana Bloom? Or really, had any love triangle between you?”

Williams brows shot up. “A love triangle?” He scoffed with an offended shake of his head. “I wish his ass would. Hell no. Who’s Alana Bloom?”

Will opened his mouth and then paused. “He doesn’t have an acquaintance named Alana?”

William’s eyes narrowed. “Not that I know of, but I’ll be sure to check. How did yours meet her?”

Will tilted his head in thought. “I’m pretty sure it was when Hannibal was first beginning his psychiatry practice; Alana needed a mentor during her residency and he was it. It was through Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

William looked intrigued. “Psychiatry? I hate shrinks.” Will gave a commiserating nod. “But no, Hannibal is a surgeon, foremost, but right now he’s only on specialty rotations. Does a certain amount of surgical hours per month and consults in difficult case groups. He takes care of house and home, mostly. No Alana I can think of.”

Will groaned and leaned back to look up to the peaceful, if dull grey sky. “Yeah, well mine is both a shrink and banging his mentee right now so…”

William whistled and shook his head. “Jesus, what the ever lovin’ fuck is going on over there?”

Will shook his head and sat up. “What I need, is advice on an actionable playbook to seduce his ass. I’m already certain he wants me, he’s intrigued and invested, I can see that. But to give up Alana and the perfectly wholesome id she provides? I need to get to that.”

William sunk into thought, pulling at the grass just as Will had been. “This Alana, whats she like? And look like?”

“Um, dark-haired, long, short height, slight of frame. Elfin, if that makes sense. Very protective and naive. Optimistic. _Good._ ” Will finished.

“Boring.” William bounced right back. “She sounds _boring_.” He smirked. “That’s how you get him.”

“Huh.” Will digested that. “Okay, but I need something actionable. I feel like if I fuck this up its game over in my universe.”

“You’re probably not wrong.” William said with a wry twist to his mouth. “You need to remind him why he’s your soulmate.” William reached out and grasped Will’s hands. “Soulmates are not two halves of a whole. They are two wholes that create _balance_. The one thing you are designed to do, is fulfill every jagged edge to Hannibal Lecter. This is the main basis of our connection, so focus on that.” Will nodded to show he was following. “Um, okay. I’m guessing you both have never kissed or touched intimately?”

Will frowned and shook his head. “No, Hannibal is…above all that.”

William scoffed. “No, he’s not.” When Will went to object the other shook his captured hands. “He’s really not. He might try to sell you all that but his detachment from his sexuality _excludes_ us; its one of the things that infuriates him the most. Ergo, he takes it out on us, if we let him get away with it. He wants you, badly. You need to stoke that while still protecting yourself from his lashing out.”

Will groaned again. “Jesus, how? His last lashing out landed me in a fucking asylum!”

“You can’t be afraid of him Will.” William shook his head. “Fear is for sheep, we aren’t sheep. Now are we stone cold killers like him, usually not, but we aren’t easy prey. You approach him with fear and trepidation and he’ll run roughshod all over you. You gotta buck up.”

It was quiet for a moment while Will swallowed this. “So seduce him? Like, classic, old-school seduction? Shirt hanging off my shoulder and a smoldering look, seduction?”

William laughed and leaned back again. “Nah, but you do need to appeal to his senses. They’re heightened so it’s an easier job for us. Buy cologne he likes, leave an article of your clothing in his house. Find a reason to work out with him, shower near him. Call him drunk, genuinely drunk, and let him hear you slur. He usually likes our accent well enough.” William looked upward as he rattled off some more. “Masturbate or get someone else off and then let him smell it on you. But you should be careful with that, I don’t know your version well enough to know what he’ll do if he loses his temper.”

Will felt his eyes widen. “Has yours ever lost his temper?”

“Oh yeah.” William lowered his head to look Will straight on. “A couple times I pushed him into it, especially when he was getting restless and I needed him to calm the fuck down and be civil. Once I just came home with another’s man’s cologne all over the left side of my jacket and then refused to explain myself. It took about a week but when he finally blew it was just what I’d expected. Granted we’d been married for about two years and Hannaizah was just about to come home to us.”

Will tabled the kids for another time. “But what did he do?”

William smirked. “Stalked me through the house to my office at just after two A.M and grabbed me up by my arms. I mean he lifted me straight in the air by at least three feet.” He laughed at Will’s gaping. “He was probably gonna shake the shit out of me but I kicked him right in the gut and slapped a homemade pepper bomb I had ready, right in his face.” He chuckled some more. “I got this stool I use to get on top of my bookcases that I trapped him under, sat right on it and threatened him with S.W.A.T. grade mace if he didn’t calm down. Told him he’d never taste or smell anything the same. It shut him up long enough for me to work my magic.”

Will was reeling. He honestly couldn’t picture himself doing a tenth of anything so bold. “And he…accepted this?” Will asked slowly.

William sighed. “He didn’t have a choice. Our dynamic is different from you and yours. I’ve never _once_ let Hannibal get away with any of the shit he tries. So when he came at me he hadn’t been expecting to get away with it that time either.”

Will closed his eyes in frustration. “We don’t … have that.”

“I know.” William sounded sympathetic. “But you need to create something for yourself, its imperative. Your dynamic won’t be the same as mine, but it can’t remain the same as it has been.” It was quiet again for a few minutes. “Don’t overcomplicate it, Will. At the end of the day, Hannibal is a sophisticated beast, but a beast nonetheless. Reward his good behavior, punish his bad. He starts shit with you? Disappear for a week, ghost him, then return like nothing happened. He apologize for being a shit? Touch him, skin to skin, somewhere. I promise he won’t deny or rebuff you. He starts looking plotty? Embarrass him in public, though use that bit judiciously or start giving your attention to someone else. Start having plans and back up plans and back up for your back up. And _never_ let anything slide. You getting my drift?”

“Hmm.” Will blinked in astonishment. “It can’t be that easy. Carrot and stick?”

William gave a filthy smirk. “Carrot and stick.”

* * *

**_I bet she could never make you cry. Cuz’ the scars on your heart are still mine._ **

Will woke with renewed vigor and a dark song on his lips. Today marked the last day of his leave of absence from lecturing and the day before the second of his bi-weekly appointments with Hannibal. He’d had a truly productive night’s rest.

First thing first was a reluctant, if necessary, trip to D.C. where he made several very important purchases. The first was complementary cologne. He had little trouble posing as a hopelessly overwhelmed hermit in need of guidance and the saleslady was more than ready to walk him through the science of pheromones, undernotes, topnotes and accents. All of which accumulated to him buying not one, but two different eau du toilettes; one for everyday and one for sex appeal, she assured. Will took it to heart.

Nordstrom was next. A step up from his annual Macy’s run. A salesclerk took one look at him and must have given a signaling chirp because suddenly there was an emergency conference of saleswomen surrounding him in debate about cut, color and style. After staunchly refusing anything with the words ‘skinny’ in them, he reluctantly accepted items with the word ‘fitted’. Not too ostentatious, they had assured him, just enough to make him look smart. Will took it with a grain of suspicion and over three hundred dollars spent.

He made sure to buy exactly the same type of shoes he usually did, just new, and an extra pair of fine black boots he’d been putting off replacing.

When the next day arrived, Will dressed in a casual black ‘fitted’ pant: a grey, black and beige checked shirt that sat at the perfect untucked length: a smart dark grey blazer that he’d actually found in the back of his closet and new black boots that he was eager to break in. The last piece was two spritz of his new everyday cologne, supposedly with notes oak, cinnamon and leather. And though Will couldn’t smell all of that, he did enjoy the scent so he was happy enough with his purchase. He was sure not to apply too much; even though his appointment wasn’t until seven-thirty, he was sure Hannibal would smell it on him just fine.

Will noticed the lingering looks he received throughout the day, though whether that was due to his returning to work from incarcerated disgrace or his revamped wardrobe, he couldn’t be sure. He had no issues corralling his students back on topic and whipping them back to shape. When a colleague of his called herself being welcoming and invited Will to sit with a group at lunch…he accepted. Though he was loathe to, he saw the necessity in being sociable and spoke vaguely about his experience within the BSHCI and the clearing of his name. He didn’t even flinch when a male professor clapped his back as he bid farewell.

Seven-twenty five found Will inside Hannibal’s waiting room, legs crossed at the knee, cheek resting irreverently on his fist. Seven-thirty had the office door opening exactly on time. Will looked up through his lashes before he moved to stand. “Good evening, Dr. Lecter.”

Will watched Hannibal’s nostrils flare involuntarily. “Will, good evening. Please, come inside.” He just barely kept himself from smirking when he felt, more than saw or heard, Hannibal smell him as he walked past.

“You’ve changed your aftershave.” Hannibal addressed.

Will took his time shrugging out of his blazer. “Not an aftershave, an eau du toilette, a whole different breed, I was assured. Time for me to expand, I guess.”

“Yes.” Hannibal said simply as he unbuttoned his jacket and sat down with his usual grace. “Any particular reason you felt to make the change now?”

Will tucked his hands in his pocket and took to a slow pace. The better to mark territory. “Yeah actually. Had to _replace_ some of my closet after the Bureau ran through everything.” He made sure to sound just bitter enough. “The perfume section was right there, and the lady was helpful. I just told her to get whatever fit me best.” Lies; and Will was well aware how perversely pleasurable he found lying to Hannibal was.

“Oh?” If he hadn’t been listening for it, he wouldn’t have heard the slight tightening of Hannibal’s voice. “Where did you go?”

Will shrugged, nearing the fireplace now. “Somewhere in D.C.” He stopped and looked back over to Hannibal. “Why? Is it no good?”

“It’s fine, Will.” Hannibal said evenly.

Will walked back toward the facing chairs. “Just fine? It’s not ‘complimenting’ me?” He asked being sure to put the air quotes up. “She said it would.” He insisted.

Hannibal cleared his throat and made a minute adjustment in his chair. “It is complementary. I would have, perhaps, picked something else for you, but what you wear now is acceptable.”

Will gave a frown and thought about it. “Okay, we’ll do that then.”

Hannibal blinked. “Do what?”

Will arched a brow. “We’ll go so you can pick out whatever will soothe your refined palate.” He gave a good-natured scoff. “I don’t even have an idea of where to go so you’ll have to do all the work there.”

“It would be no trouble.” Hannibal assured promptly. “I would enjoy the excursion but Will, are you sure?”

“Uh, yes?” He frowned at Hannibal. “Unless you want to bill me for the time? Then in that case, no.”

And then Hannibal laughed. It was short and soft and seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised Will. “No Will. We will go as friends, if that is still palatable to you.”

“Hannibal.” Will said seriously and sat forward in his chair. “As long as you don’t have plans to ruin my life anymore than you already have, then I am prepared to put that behind me as much as I can. But I need you to say it clearly.”

The psychiatrist’s head cocked slightly. “Say what, exactly.”

“Say that you aren’t going to ruin anymore of my life. I need to hear you say it.”

It spoke volumes that Hannibal hesitated and Will felt a fury wash over him from nowhere. Suddenly he was standing, snapping up his jacket and striding purposefully toward the door. ‘Will.” Hannibal, whom he hadn’t heard even _move_ let alone get up and pursue him, grabbed him by the elbow. “I apologize for that. I wished to speak truly to you. I want to be friendly with you, Will and swear not to ruin anymore of your life so long as you swear to return the favor.”

Will watched him carefully. William had said to be sure Hannibal didn’t see him as cheap or easy. “You don’t think I deserve restitution for what you’ve done to me?”

Hannibal’s chin lifted slightly and Will knew he hadn’t been expecting that. “Then why make the offer for my word, if it’s restitution you feel you need to regain your equilibrium?”

He noted how Hannibal had yet to release his elbow, even as he turned to fully face the taller man. “I didn’t say I needed to regain my equilibrium. Besides your word and my restitution aren’t mutually exclusive, Doctor.”

“Well are they symbiotic?”

Will smirked and slowly began to put on his blazer. “Not really.” Hannibal was finally forced to release him and Will kept his silence as he straightened his lapels. “But I’ll tell you what, Hannibal. I know you know what you did was a betrayal against me; one you would hardly let stand uncontested if it were against you.” He stepped closer and placed a friendly hand just a little lower on Hannibal’s shoulder than a friend normally would. “So I’ll cut you a deal; you get to decide. You decide how you’re going to make it up to me. You do it sincerely and I’ll let this whole thing wash behind us like water under a bridge.”

Hannibal studied him, still as stone and just as unblinking. “And if I fail to be as sincere as you would like?”

Will leaned in as if to whisper a secret and was delighted to see Hannibal’s nostrils flare once again. It seemed there were some things even the good doctor couldn’t control. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but simply gave his best impression of Mona Lisa’s beatific indifference, turned on his heel and let himself out. “You know how to find me Dr. Lecter, I’ll see you Thursday.”

The entire session had lasted barely ten minutes but finally Will was beginning to see what William meant. He couldn’t just let Hannibal have access to him if Hannibal didn’t _deserve it_. Let the man stew tonight on all the missed opportunity fifty more minutes with him could have yielded.

Perhaps next time he wouldn’t hesitate to give Will a simple goddam promise not to wreck him anymore.

* * *

Will routinely assessed his expectations of people as people were a constant disappointment. After being told by the OIG and Kade Purnell explicitly, that he was not to resume his profiling work for the Bureau, he was wildly surprised to have Jack Crawford asking him to ignore those directives.

“Jack,” Will was massaging his temples because really…this was getting ridiculous. “Not only would this put both of our careers in jeopardy, but I could face legal action if it got out.”

“So we keep you unofficial and it _doesn’t_ get out.” When Will remained silent with reluctance, Jack sighed mournfully. “Eight people, Will. I have eight bodies sitting for processing by the same killer. This is reaching Chesapeake Ripper levels, I need help. I’ll take the heat for it if I have to, but I think we can avoid it all together if we just keep things completely unofficial.” He passed a bulky manila folder over his desk. “No coming to the labs and no emails. We’ll meet in person and you can call me anytime you have a breakthrough.”

Will nodded, stashed the folder and stood. “Alright Jack. I’ll do what I can.” Which greatly satisfied the man if the relieved drop in his shoulders was any indication.

Will’s lectures ended early that day and tomorrow was only for office hours before his appointment with Hannibal. He spent the time carefully combing through the files though it wasn’t until he was lining up the pictures that a theory came to mind. He called for both Jack and Beverley to meet in a diner in Baltimore at five-thirty. It wasn’t the most clandestine of meetings, but maybe that was better, plausible deniability and all. Will honestly felt better for his assistance as this time it didn’t require him viewing the scenes directly.

Thursday was pre-Jack normal slowness with intermittent students needing his assistance. When Will arrived for his appointment he was sure to carry none of their previous encounter’s baggage and he could tell his deviation was throwing Hannibal, if only slightly. Eight-fifteen saw Will leaving and just as he was at the door, Hannibal stopped him with a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Will, I would like to remind you of our plans for dinner this Saturday, if you are still amenable? I will be seeing Alana tomorrow night so she should not interrupt us, as per your request.”

Will let both of his brows rise at the blatant heavy handed mentioning of Alana; he decided not to address it. “Yeah, sure no problem. Seven good?”

Hannibal gave him a small genuine smile. “Seven is perfect.”

Will left feeling like progress was being made.

* * *

Will was careful with his attire Saturday. He needed to strike the perfect balance of enticing and effortless, something he had little to no real experience doing as mostly he went with genuine lack of effort. Light grey fitted pants: a new black button down: coffee brown belt and shoes with his grey blazer to top it off. He also decided tonight was a good night to try out the ‘sex’ cologne, as he’d taken to calling it.

Hannibal’s slight delay in greeting him led Will to believe operation ‘Seduce the Senses’ was hitting successive strides. Hannibal took his blazer and Will decided to carefully roll his sleeves up to tone down his formality; not that he would look out of place next to Hannibal’s maroon and grey checked, three-piece suit.

Conversation was fluid, Will found times to be both passive and aggressive with his tone. He was sure to help Hannibal set the table and poked fun at the complicated sounding dishes while also complimenting Hannibal’s skills both frequently and indirectly. The good doctor tried to remain stoic but Will was becoming aware just how much praising Hannibal soothed his feathers, especially if he felt it was genuine. Once desert was done and Will had insisted on helping clean up, Hannibal too, insisted on port in the study before Will left. Will had only had one full glass of wine with quite a bit of water so he wasn’t worried; this was also why when his head started to swim he then started to worry.

Staring into the fire, Will tried not to let his heart break. He guessed Hannibal wouldn’t be aware that without the encephalitis Will had discovered he had a slight but recognizable allergic reaction to barbiturate compounds and was quite familiar with them due to his time in the BSHCI. He hadn’t ever shared his allergy as the slight swelling and nausea was the perfect way to tell when they were drugging his food in the asylum. This was Midazolam, if he was guessing and the heavy, sticky sweetness of the port had been a perfect cover for it. He blinked and steadied his breath, careful not to let his disappointment show.

With a huff and exaggerated blinking he heaved himself up. “Ugh, Hannibal, show me to the bathroom?”

“Of course.” The man replied evenly and just as the asshole was crossing the threshold in front of him, Will snagged the heavy vase he’d been admiring earlier and crashed it right into the sensitive back of Hannibal’s head. He went down hard, though he wasn’t unconscious.

“FUCKER.” Will spat, though that was all he had time for as he fled the house quickly at a stagger. He was so glad, _so glad_ , that something had told him to keep his keys in his pants pocket instead of his blazer. The jacket would just have to be collateral damage as he didn’t have time to grab it before he was in his car and carefully, if fearfully, backing up and getting on the road. He had ten minutes at most before he would need to pull over and Will prayed all the way to the first rest stop he could find.

He let himself cry while he cursed Hannibal left and right and wished fervently that he could conjure William on the spot. He wondered if it was pathetic that he had to be his own best friend. When he was calmer, if floaty and a bit sick, he pulled out his phone and created a new group chat consisting of Alana, Jack and Beverly. He didn’t _want_ to include Alana, but he had a class on Monday and preferred if she would sub for him rather than someone else.

It took him a slow few minutes to construct the text: ‘Evening, due to a personal situation I will be unavailable Monday and Tuesday, if you, Alana, wouldn’t mind please covering my Monday class? Jack and Beverly, I’ll be sure to check in Wednesday. Thanks.’ He then immediately turned off his phone. He pulled himself together enough to stagger into the gas station store, purchased three bottles of water, used the store bathroom and then began chugging as much as he could in his car.

He couldn’t go home; he wasn’t anywhere near confident on how Hannibal would react and showing up in Wolf Trap in the middle of the night was exactly something he would do.

Will took a breath, turned his phone on to no less than a dozen missed calls and then called the Strucker’s home line. Their farm was on the other side of the woods to the south of Will’s house and their dogs got along with Will’s pack famously. Mr. Strucker had no problem looking after ‘the boys’ he called them, even though half of them were female, and Mrs. Strucker knew where Will hid his backdoor key. When that was done he turned his phone back off.

Will sat in his car until things began to even out and he reached new levels of apathy. He was beginning to disassociate, he knew. Why was he destined to a person that would continue to hurt him? It was nearing three in the morning when he finally felt up to turning on his car and began a leisurely drive to Virginia Beach. He stopped in a Walmart on the way and picked up a handful of essentials; underwear, some sweats, a hoodie, a toothbrush and stick of Old Spice deodorant he knew instinctively Hannibal would hate with a passion. He checked himself into the Hilton and decided not to feel bad about spending an extended weekend surrounded by tourists. He wandered the beach in a fugue, played with any dogs he found, ate only when he felt dizzy and drank himself to sleep. He only cried once more and that was in his sleep so he didn’t think it counted.

What had Hannibal been planning? To question him while under the influence of a slightly hallucinogenic ‘truth serum’? What was it he wanted to know so badly that he would work against his own seeking of friendship. Will wondered if William were entirely correct; there was no way Hannibal could keep hurting him if he loved him. Or maybe he didn’t love him. Now that Will thought about it, not once did William ever mention love, just balance and purpose and connection.

Will didn’t know if all that was enough to keep Hannibal from finally killing him one day, be it purposeful or not.

* * *

Wednesday morning had Will collecting his dogs from the Struckers and home before ten. He showered, shaved, prepared for his class and was in Quantico by one. By three he was done for the day and went by Alana’s office to thank her, dodged every well meaning inquiry into his absence and set off for Jack’s office. Jack also pressed for his reasons and whereabouts, which Will didn’t elaborate on because he didn’t work for Jack. Once Will threatened to simply leave, Jack called Beverly up and they briefed him on the update to the Muralist case.

“This one,” Will paused and tapped at a glossy photo. “He wasn’t discarded.” When there was silence, Will looked up. “Did he have a history with drugs?”

“Uh, yeah.” Beverly rooted around some papers. “Went through an out-patient program for rehabilitation.”

Will nodded, “So he had a resistance and didn’t immediately OD. He woke up, freaked out and tore himself off, he wasn’t discarded. Check him over thoroughly Bev, my guess is he can lead you to the scene.”

“Huh.” Beverly shook her head at him. “Ironic. You know since you went MIA we had Lecter profile for us when we found him.”

Will blinked. “And what’d he say?”

She shrugged. “Said the same thing we did; he was torn down and discarded for being imperfect.”

Will snorted and stood to go before he let his mouth run. “Right. Well, I’m off. I have some things to do.”

By the time Will got home it was just before five. He hurried to change, fed both himself and his dogs and sped out. His instincts were telling him being home would mean a confrontation and he wasn’t ready quite yet. He stayed at a motel two towns away.

Thursday was an easy day for him and he spent the time thinking. Before his last student appointment at four-fifteen he had a plan in place. He left work, stopped at a supermarket for a few things and then went home to prepare.

Seven-thirty-five, Will was sitting in one of his comfortable armchairs by his worktable, reading, when he saw and heard a car pull up. He put down his book, reached under the table top for what he needed and settled back into his seat. When there was a neat knock on the door, he called, “It’s open.”

Hannibal walked in cautiously and when he turned toward Will, Will cocked his shotgun loudly and smiled. “Close the door please.”

Hannibal seemed reluctant, intrigued and chagrined all at once. “Will, I had been hoping we could talk.” Will just kept his smile and nodded toward the door. It took a few moments but finally Hannibal pushed the door closed and Will found that intriguing. For all the good doctor knew, Will might have finally snapped and was planning to kill him.

“You do know that in this state, if I shoot you right now, I’ll have sufficient cause to say you were trespassing? Especially if I back it up with harassment and the toxicology report I had done last weekend.” That was a lie but he saw Hannibal stiffen with wariness.

“You accused me on that report?”

Will shook his head. “You’re not connected to it yet, Dr. Lecter.” He smirked. “Think of it as insurance.” Will stood suddenly, flicking the safety back on and clicking the gun back under the worktable. He wasn’t worried about Hannibal reaching for it. He approached the other man slowly and then ostentatiously helped him out of his coat to hang it on the rack. Hannibal continued to watch him. “Come on.” Will brought him back to the kitchen; phase one was complete.

He saw Hannibal take notice of the two place settings on the dining room table but the man didn’t ask about them; choosing to stand by the counter near Will.

“You wanna talk?” He asked, letting a bout of his southern drawl out. Just a bit. He produced two glasses and poured two fingers of his good whiskey in each.

“Yes, please. I’d like to explain myself.” Hannibal took his glass. “Thank you.”

“Don’t drink that just yet.” Will reached into a drawer, pulled out a folded napkin, and carefully unwrapped it. “Here we are,” he said picking up a small pill, keeping it somewhat shielded from his guest while holding it forward. “Before we talk, why don’t you open your mouth?”

Hannibal went still, seeming to look at Will with disbelief. But Will kept his countenance serene and his hand steady. Something unfurled, unspoken between them. Hannibal knew that to even entertain any conversation he would need to do this and Will watched him battle his pride to ask what the pill was. It took nearly ten minutes before his pride won and he finally, slowly, opened his mouth. “Stick out your tongue, doctor.” And Hannibal complied, keeping an unblinking stare.

Will delicately placed the pill on Hannibal’s tongue and then used his middle finger to slide it back; he was sure to keep eye contact. He raised his free hand to cup Hannibal’s jaw, took hold of Hannibal’s glass and tipped the whiskey to his lips. “There you go. Just let that settle. Why don’t you have a seat?”

The house was small and the dining table was merely a few feet away, so Hannibal had a perfect view of Will turning on the stove and stovetop. There was oil already in a pan and a plate of battered fish covered and ready to fry once the oil had heated. He reached into the refrigerator and retrieved a small container of bacon fat and chopped onions that he threw into a separate pan with peppercorn and a not insignificant, amount of cayenne. Cooked and strained collard greens went into that mix and while they sautéed Will began to fry the fish. When a timer went off, he carefully extracted a medium glass dish of his southern style mac and cheese, just like his daddy used to make.

The meal was country and heavy on the stomach and Will just barely kept himself from snickering as he made the plates. By the time he was sitting in front of his guest over twenty minutes had passed and it showed.

“I see it’s hitting you now, huh?”

Will took pleasure in seeing Hannibal take a big gulping breath and pat at the sweat pouring off his face. “Thank you.” He nodded to the plate, choosing to ignore that last comment and began to eat. For almost an hour Will enjoyed blatantly watching Hannibal as he ate and his stuffy self-importance seemed to melt off him bit by bit. When they were done Will stood, cleared the table, washed the dishes, refilled their drinks and came back to his seat. By then Hannibal’s jacket was gone: he had removed and rolled up his tie: he had his vest hanging open and two buttons on his shirt undone.

The doctor licked his lips and broke. “Will, what was that you gave me?”

Will gave a genuine smile as he had been waiting just for this moment. “A relic from the past.” He laughed out before continuing. “Its actually from back during my time in New Orleans. Think of it as a mix between Viagra and MDMA. Congratulations doctor, I’m almost positive this is your first time riding a party drug.” He sipped his whisky as Hannibal seemed to nod to himself, no doubt able to diagnose what Will couldn’t see happening under the table. “You know I had completely forgotten about them, never really knew why I didn’t throw them away. It wasn’t until I was up all night thinking how to make you pay, that they came to mind.”

Hannibal licked his, no doubt cottony feeling, lips and patted more of his sweat. “And is this part of your restitution?”

Will laughed incredulously. “Oh no, Doctor. This is just plain revenge for you drugging me the other night. No, _restitution,_ you’ll have to work a little harder for.” Hannibal nodded again and closed his eyes, seemingly needing a moment to wrestle his control. Will could only imagine what kind of war was being waged on Hannibal’s prized control by chemicals he had never had cause to dabble in. When he reached for another button Will lilted, “Why don’t you just take the rest of it off?” He’d meant it quite facetiously but when Hannibal stared him down he arched a brow challengingly.

When the other man stood and began to undress Will couldn’t say with full certainty if the drug was responsible or not; technically, Hannibal was on a trip. Hannibal didn’t rush and took his time to carefully fold his clothes and drape them over the back of an unused chair. Will felt his eyes progressively widening.

Ah. So there was where all that self-assuredness was coming from. There was a certain way men acted when they were well endowed and Hannibal had always fit the stereotype but now Will was seeing the cause. He watched Hannibal blatantly and had the errant thought of wondering how petit, little Alana was handling all that. Hannibal leaned against Will’s kitchen counter, sweaty, with is hair hanging across his forehead and dripping into his eyes and his cock throbbing like it was its own eight-oh-eight.

Not one bit of this was professional, Will decided.

Will finished his drink and carefully pushed his seat back from the table. He then sat back, crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his hands over his belly. Although there was a low-level thrum of arousal running through him, he was strictly keeping it from passing into a physical erection and he wanted Hannibal to see this control and know that Will had it while he didn’t. From the narrowing of his eyes, he could tell Hannibal had received the message.

For a long while neither spoke. Finally, Will stood. “Would you like some water?”

Hannibal gave a nod, his chin resting down on his chest before he staunchly gripped the counter behind him and raised it back up. Will set a glass of cold water next to him and then retook his seat. Hannibal was entering the back half of hour three with the drug in his system; if Will remembered correctly, one pill would give a typical high of four hours, the longest you should go physically aroused. But usually people were fucking like rabbits and passed out by now and that pill was going on a decade old so there were some outlying factors in play.

Will felt a slight flush when he happened to catch a thick bead of precum hit the floor. He cleared his throat. “You’re making a mess on my floor, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal, who had probably been trying to find some inner zen, opened his eyes with a snarl. “I’m not cleaning it.” He tossed his head and gripped the counter. “In fact, if I ejaculate all over your dining room table, I’m not cleaning it.”

Will’s face opened with giddy astonishment. If this was Hannibal high out of his mind, Will might have to do this more often. “That is shockingly rude.” Hannibal gave another snarl and narrowed his eyes but had to close them when another pulse of precum dropped to the floor. Will had to bite his lip to focus. He waved his hand. “But go ahead, go for it. You’re about done anyway, you’ll probably go down if you get this one out.”

Aaaand that seemed to be the line as Hannibal stared at him incredulously. Will was starting to understand why Hannibal did this to other people, this shit was both hilarious and fun.

Hannibal took a deep breath. “Have I endured enough, Will? Will you forgive me, now that my humiliation is complete? Or do you require me to cross that last boundary of dignity?”

Will rolled his eyes, toed out of his shoes and stood with a huff. He sauntered around that table and stood just in front of his guest. For a few moments he didn’t answer. “You know, I wonder if maybe I should call Alana down for you. She could help you out. You know she doesn’t live far from here, right?” When Hannibal only gave a great exhale, sounding not unlike a bull, Will stepped just a bit closer. “But something tells me she’s not it. Not what you want.” He leaned even further. “I don’t think she does it for you.”

The other watched him with animal stillness. “And what do you think _does it for me?_ ” He was trying to sound condescending but Will let it roll off of him.

Will leaned back slightly and pulled off his shirt, it was old and slightly too large, just like his jeans. Hannibal’s surprise was evident even if his expression hadn’t changed. Will turned on the spot and deliberately pressed back against Hannibal, skin to skin, feeling the damp fire of him and smelling the cloying scent of his arousal. He pressed his hips back firmly, knowing the denim was most likely abrasive and overwhelming and smirking wildly when he felt Hannibal shudder and groan. Will shifted slightly, leaning his head and presenting his neck; he was rewarded with another of those lovely snarls and a forceful push of Hannibal’s face right into that vacant spot.

“You try my patience, Will. How far is this revenge meant to go?”

“Jeez, I don’t know Dr. Lecter, you learn your lesson yet?” Will rolled his hips and it was the last thing he did before he was being hurled up against the dining room table. Two large hands wrapped around his neck and pushed him face down while Hannibal gave a long, forceful grind. Will’s old ratty jeans were so low on his hips that, by design, the top of his ass was just visible; in fact he was sure if Hannibal wanted he could use enough force to just yank them down; he certainly wasn’t wearing anything under them.

Will gave a wild laugh when Hannibal put more weigh on the back of his neck, humping him with abandon and dripping sweat on his shoulders. “If you ejaculate all over my back, are you still not going to clean it?”

Hannibal’s fingers clenched around the front of his neck, cutting off his air and Will kept his hands lax above his head on the table. He felt Hannibal lean down to growl in his ear. “Especially not then.”

Will felt wild, and fierce and hysterical. He was aware that was probably the oxygen deprivation but it didn’t keep him from thrusting back and focusing in on the ragged moans of his therapist/frenemy/soulmate finding release all over his back like the savages they were.

When he was finally allowed to breathe he did so greedily, and remained lax against the table, making no moves to stand. He felt a hand on his skin right before the bastard behind him had the _audacity_ to start rubbing his spunk into Will’s skin. He sat up with a squawk and swatted behind him, which Hannibal fended off easily and then left for the sink. Will was only able to stagger to a chair and sit, now annoyingly hard but completely committed to doing nothing for it until he was well and truly alone. He watched in silence as Hannibal cleaned and dried his hands before redressing.

When he was dressed he seemed to hesitate and Will relished in it while he leaned his face on to his fist, elbow resting on the table. “What have we learned here today?”

Hannibal gave him a glare before retaking his seat. “I had suspicions Will, and did not trust you to speak truthfully. I understand it was wrong of me to do what I did and I will not do so again.”

Will sat up with a scoff. “Do what you did…no, say it. You betrayed me Hannibal, not two weeks after betraying me a first time you betrayed me again. Say it.”

Will kept his gaze until Hannibal acquiesced with a nod. “I betrayed you.”

Will shook his head, suddenly wanting to be alone. “You make things so unnecessarily difficult. I just don’t understand. And that’s saying something Hannibal, because it’s my default to understand.”

Hannibal leaned forward. “Will-”

“Are you going to just keep hurting me?” Will asked and hated that he heard his voice break. It brought the doctor up short and when he did nothing but search Will’s eyes he’d had enough. Will stood and gestured with his hand. “Have a good evening, Dr. Lecter; I think we’re done here.”

“Will.” Hannibal repeated though he said nothing else as Will began to herd him toward the door. The taller man dug his heels in once he had his coat and was right before the threshold; he turned. Will gave a small shove. “I’ll see you Tuesday, now go.”

Hannibal spun on his heels once he hit the porch. “Was this not enough? Must I do more, debase myself more, Will?”

Will braced himself on his threshold and his temper spiked. “I don’t know Hannibal, has it been enough? _Will you keep hurting me?_ ” The hesitation Hannibal took to lick his lips and swallow was enough to disgust him.

Will slammed the door in Hannibal’s face.


	6. Prevention is Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chappie was inspired by E.T. Hopefully you guys will get to see why. I'm so happy with the overall reception so far; its always gratifying to see an idea be conveyed as you hoped. 
> 
> As always let me know how you feel!

CHAPTER SIX: PREVENTION IS KEY

['E.T.'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=buM8Od9-7JU&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

William woke with a thrum of energy. Of course his lovingly creepy husband was hovering just beside him, though the lax book in his lap spoke to him at least _trying_ to occupy himself like a normal human being. But Will barely registered any of that as he sat up abruptly, pushed his husband onto his back and climbed on top of him. He lowered his narrowed eyes and asked menacingly, “Who the fuck is Alana Bloom?”

Hannibal had a tell when he was genuinely confused. Will supposed it was because it didn’t happen often and when it did, Hannibal sincerely hated it with a passion; when he was confused his body always tried to take in as much information as possible. A minute widening of his naturally slender eyes and a flaring of his nostrils. Just a tick each and Will watched them happen so he was already confident that his Hannibal had no such relationship with an Alana Bloom. Still it wouldn’t do to even let the possibility exist.

“I am…unfamiliar with an Alana Bloom.” Hannibal replied stilted. Will was sure the man was racking his brain as hard as he could to glean just why that name would be important. “May I ask-”

“You _may not_.” Will surged and snarled against his lips. “Do you know what I would do to you if I ever found out you had cheated on me?”

It was gratifying to see his husband’s nose scrunch ever so slightly. Infidelity was an enormously unattractive trait to Hannibal, he was aware. “I would never.” He stated simply. But then he gave an interested blink. “But I am completely unsure of what you would do if you were ever convinced such had happened.”

“You really don’t know?” Will pressed as he leaned back and sat up still straddling his spouse.

“Would you kill me?” Hannibal seemed genuinely curious.

Will scoffed. “No, that’s pedestrian.” He leaned back down. “I would _ruin_ you, my dear, and let you rot for the rest of your days.” When Hannibal simply watched him unblinking, Will pushed. “Do you understand?”

“Even if you found such hadn’t occurred?”

“Hannibal, if you think your life is boring enough to risk ruin for a game? Then by all means, you do what you feel you must. But if you play me, you be prepared for the consequences because I will take you for everything you have, ever had or ever even will have and then I’ll go marry some other man and have him raise your children.”

When Hannibal bucked with a snarl, Will held still and kept a straight face. He couldn’t flinch here, it was important for Hannibal to reach the right conclusion. He watched his husband swallow down a bitter and infuriated snarl toward an imaginary, hypothetical man. When Hannibal seemed to come back to himself, he stated softly. “I wouldn’t.”

Will took the time to assess him. “Well we’ll see, won’t we?”

* * *

Will kept his Tuesday appointment as he said he would, though he was sure to be a blander version of himself. It wasn’t all that difficult, technically speaking, but maintaining airs was draining. Why couldn’t he just have what William had? Somehow a different version of himself had managed to carve out wedded bliss from the monolith of the monster before him.

“You seem distracted, Will.” Hannibal had stated, leaning forward in hopeful engagement.

“I am distracted, Doctor. But not quite ready to speak to you about it.”

Will left the appointment distinctly aware that each possible move: a push forward, a retreat backward, a standstill, might yield wildly different results. He needed Hannibal to hunger for him more than he wished to play with him and _that_ was the hard part.

Will spent Wednesday working and planning. He dove into the Muralist case a bit more but was satisfied with his current line of profile. He toyed with the idea of beginning another monograph project and found it had tremendous benefits outside of the fact that his heart wasn’t really interested. He was tossing around research proposals when there was a knock at the door of his small office. He opened his mouth to call out but a dark head was already popping in.

“Alana?” He really didn’t want to speak with her. “What’s wrong?” He sat forward and closed his laptop.

Alana entered fully and closed the door with a delicate click. “Nothing’s wrong, per say, but I’ve barely seen you since you left the hospital, Will. We haven’t spoken at all.”

He sighed, fingers tapping at the arms of his chair. “Not much to talk about Alana. I just want to focus on something that takes me away from that time.”

Alana sat down delicately. “And what is that something?”

Will’s brows furrowed. “Well, I’m weighing the benefits of writing again, but Alana, I don’t owe you any explanations. I’m not insane, remember?”

“No, of course, you don’t owe me, Will. But I would like if you talked to me.” She gave a great breath. “I feel like we don’t speak anymore, not since Hannibal and I became an item. I want to clear the air about that.”

Will let the silence sit for a few moments. “Well I don’t. I don’t want to talk to you about your romantic endeavors, Alana.”

She swallowed and nodded. “So we won’t acknowledge that you treat me differently now that I am tied to our mutual acquaintance after rejecting a potential relationship with you.”

“No.” Will said simply with a straight face. “We won’t.”

“That’s destructive, Will, and not good for either of us.”

“And yet,” Will threw his hands up and leaned back. “I don’t give a damn. You made a decision, I see it and acknowledge it. I’m not prepared to say anything else about it to you.”

“But you’ll say it to Hannibal? Who, by the way, makes sure to stress that you are friends now and not patient and therapist despite you still having a standing appointment.” She seemed skeptical but still cool and focused.

“I might because I can talk to Hannibal about it without judgement; he’s a friend.”

“How can you not say I am your friend, Will? After all I have done for you?” She was getting upset now; Will could practically taste the sense of betrayal coming from her.

“I’m aware of what you did for me while I was in the asylum Alana, but those were efforts you made to assuage yourself. Tell me I’m wrong.” He kept his voice level.

“For myself does not automatically exclude for you! You had the _death penalty_ looming over you and you were making wild claims about Hannibal and now somehow your back to speaking with Hannibal but not me? Make it make sense.”

Will blinked and looked away. “It’s not going to make sense, Alana.” The baldness of that statement seemed to throw her off guard.

“You’re serious.” She stated in disbelief.

He nodded, and looked around, suddenly ready to be on his way home. He stood and began to pack his things. “Look, its not going to make sense to you right now, but I was never wrong Alana. I think you assuming I was a crazy, murdering psychopath will always be between us. Lord knows its between me and everybody else.”

She watched him, face flushed in restrained anger. “You’ll keep that between us but not between you and Hannibal.”

At the door, Will hesitated before he looked over his shoulder. “You should wonder why that is.”

* * *

That night, Will called Hannibal to alter their plans for the following evening.

“Dinner?” The accented voice questioned.

“Yep, you show me one of those fancy places with a menu full of unnecessarily long, foreign names that require a different fork per item.”

Hannibal chuckled softly for him. “Very well then, I have an acquaintance that owns a respectable restaurant specializing in Ukrainian sea fare; I think you’ll like it.”

Will made sure Hannibal could hear him roll his eyes over the phone. “Of course you do. Shoot me the location, would you? I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”

Dressing for the occasion sent Will in a loop. He knew what he wanted to do, knew he needed to dress the part but being quite so obvious was uncomfortable. Still, he bucked up. Fitted grey pants, one of the more obviously expensive olive button downs and a grey, black and white diamond printed vest that fit him a touch tight. No tie, no jacket, just his overcoat and fine black shoes.

He did his hair, as much as his hair permitted, and sprayed a touch of the ‘Sex’ cologne. He’d had no student appointments for the late afternoon so he’d been free to take his time, thank God. And now, he was wondering if he just had more time to second guess himself. A lint roller on his porch was the final bit of effort but he hoped it would be the push towards success. As he drove over an hour he debated to himself how he would feel if went the final mile to sleeping with Hannibal, knowing full well Alana would hate them for this. Would certainly hate Will.

But Hannibal was _his_ soulmate and if Will wanted to survive being in his sphere of existence, he needed to do this. It was quite literally a matter of life or death. Hannibal _had_ to feel something more than just curiosity for him, he needed…

Will clenched his hands over the steering wheel. What hurt was that he knew the truth. The potential to love Hannibal had been there long before he’d stumbled upon multiverse versions of himself. He’d always been susceptible, hadn’t he? Always found the chiseled planes of that face fascinating: always loved the smoky timber of that voice. That’s what really wasn’t fair about all of this. But Will bucked up. Life wasn’t fair, it never had been and it damn sure wouldn’t start now; he would do what he could.

He arrived to a valet, of course, he did. The poor valet looked quite confused to being taking his beat up Volvo, but Will left him to it. Hannibal stood next to the maitre’d, as if he didn’t trust the man to escort Will where he was supposed to go. It suited him just fine and Hannibal was able to get the full brunt of Will’s efforts.

“Will.” The slightly surprised sound was music and he knew why. Hannibal, obviously, had had a busy day. The man was impeccably neat, as always, but he certainly hadn’t gone any extra mile for Will while Will…well it was quite obvious the extra mile he’d gone.

“Hey there.” He decided not to address it unless Hannibal made an explicit statement. “This place is nice, sure smells good.”

When they were seated, Hannibal opening his jacket and giving Will his undivided attention, he spoke. “How have you been, Will? You were…distant in our last appointment.”

Will played with the napkin before opening it with a flourish. “Well, I certainly did a lot of thinking. Had to get some ideas in order, Hannibal.” The use of the name was deliberate and as a waiter approached to ask for their drinks, Will looked to Hannibal to make the decision.

Hannibal studied him as he rattled off foreign words and foreign drinks. Will allowed him to look. He studied the flatware, the glassware, the linen table cloths and ambient lighting. He studied the other patrons and the soft classical music flowing from discreet speakers in the ceilings. Finally the other man moved from his stillness and opened his own napkin. “Do these ideas have any bearing on your attire for tonight?”

Will smiled. “Perhaps.”

Hannibal’s mouth quirked up in the corner. “You are playing games, dear William. Games I am surprised to see coming from you.”

Will sighed and rolled his head on his neck. “Oh, don’t ‘William’ me. You feel what I feel, between us, Hannibal. I’m just done trying to make it what it isn’t.”

“What it is,” Hannibal leaned forward. “Is that I am in a relationship with Alana Bloom and you have done much to undermine that.”

“Hannibal.” Will leaned forward as well, rudely placing his elbows beside the place setting before him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you want her more than you want me.”

Will saw his nostrils flare, a surprised tick in his brow bone, just as the waiter returned to open a bottle ostentatiously. He poured their drinks and Will deferred to Hannibal for his choice of appetizer. Will let him dictate the pace. “You wish me to be fully unfaithful to her.”

“You wouldn’t have to be _unfaithful_ if you just give her up.”

“I am…shocked at your boldness Will. This is surprising even for you, and you are the most surprising man I have ever known.”

Will took a sip of his overpriced wine. “I’m not doing this for shock value Hannibal. We have something. We did before you put me in that asylum, before you killed Abigail and force fed me her ear, before, even, you were using light therapies to exacerbate my encephalitis symptoms.” He set his wine down with more force than necessary but kept his tone even. “You think that cute little psychiatrist you bed wouldn’t go running and screaming into the hills if she caught even a glimpse of that monster you hide?”

Hannibal watched him, quietly and Will watched him back.

“I do not like to live my life under threat, Will.”

“Yeah?” Will gave a derisive laugh. “Welcome to the rest of humanity, I know you’re hardly ever here.”

The other gave a sharp exhale through his nose. “I also do not appreciate being mocked.”

“Was I mocking you Hannibal? You and I both know you don’t subscribe as the typical human. Do you?”

The other’s chin lifted slightly. “What is your overall goal? I leave Alana and be with you?”

“Does that seem like an unfair trade? Like you’re somehow losing value?” Will questioned placidly. “I know you Hannibal. Even with all the fuckery you tried you couldn’t keep me from knowing you. You wanted me to know you, to see you. Does Alana know you?”

The waiter laid down their dishes and the men were silent to appreciate the food, though both blatantly watched each other.

Some time passed before Hannibal blotted his mouth with his napkin. “I’m not prepared to make any changes to my lifestyle right now, Will. Personally, I don’t have faith in your motivations for doing this.”

Will rolled his eyes with a sigh. “You think I’m trying to play you?”

“Aren’t you?” the doctor remained unblinking.

Will let his shoulders fall. “No, Hannibal. I’m not. I’m-” With a flicker of his eyes, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m into you. I have been, for some time. All my…my anger towards you stems from that. And I’m still mad, still,” He licked his lips and took a breath to soldier on. “Still hurt that you did what you did to me.” Will forced himself to look Hannibal in the eyes; the other man didn’t even seem to be breathing he was watching him so intently. “You know me well enough to know I don’t _like_ people. But I’ve liked you … wanted you for a while now. I’m saying that I know you want me too, so why are we dancing around each other?”

Hannibal leaned back in his seat, clearly in thought.

They finished their meal in contemplative silence. Will began to grow nervous but valiantly kept himself from trembling and blathering. He’d have to wait. Hannibal was settling the bill when he next spoke. “I’m sorry Will. Your arguments are valid but, I appreciate my relationship with Alana for many different reasons, many of those I’m not prepared to throw away.”

Will felt like the breath had been pushed from his chest. “Not for me.” He whispered.

The other licked his lips, eyes rapt. “No, Will.” Will found himself nodding slowly, he would have to accept this. “Is this going to change things irreparably?” was asked.

Will blinked refocusing on Hannibal. “Well, yeah, but I’m--I’ll still … I’ll still see you Tuesday at seven-thirty.” He could hear how soft his voice had become, knew he was visibly affected, knew he was feeding Hannibal’s voracious ego. There just wasn’t anything he could do about it.

When Hannibal nodded and stood, Will forced himself to do the same. The entire trip to his car and onto the road seemed to be done in a fugue.

Hannibal was rejecting him? Hannibal had rejected him. What was he supposed to do now? Where did that put them, in the grand scheme of things? Will didn’t know, Will didn’t know anything anymore. One thing he had been assured was that Hannibal wouldn’t reject him, wanted him. But he should have known better. Who really ever wanted Will when it came down to it? Maybe for a moment, maybe for a day, but who wanted his peculiar mix of neurosis and personality disorders on a constant basis? Who wanted to sleep with someone who sweated out a liter of water every night? Who preferred quiet hikes in the woods with dogs to glitzy shows in the city?

Will didn’t understand; wasn’t Hannibal his _soulmate_? What did William say? Not two halves of a whole but two wholes that create balance. He never did say love, Will knew that, he did.

Two wholes that create balance.

_Balance._

What exactly was that? Will turned the thought over all the way home. He stood inside his house in stillness, the dogs snuffling around him, and really thought it through. Did balance necessarily mean romance? He didn’t think so; the two were not always mentioned symbiotically. It was entirely possible that providing balance for Hannibal could be done platonically. Yes, Will had feelings for Hannibal, and Hannibal, clearly was not too emotionally invested in him. Whatever otherworldly, psudo-interest the good doctor held, it wasn’t bothered by not having Will in his life romantically. So…

So Will could get over him. Will would get over him. And figure out a way to keep the balance but just letting Hannibal yank him around again and again? No he couldn’t keep doing that, not if he really wanted to remain sane.

Besides what worked in William’s quadrant of the multiverse obviously wasn’t going to work here. Will had missed his window of opportunity to tame his monster. The best he could do was live with him.

He supposed the quality of ‘living’ was debatable.


	7. Wisdom and Windfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming up to the end, Duckies~~ Don't worry, it'll all make sense in the end. Heheheee.
> 
> Anywho, this chappie inspired by 'Addiction'. Hit repeat~~

### 

CHAPTER SEVEN: WISDOM AND WINDFALL

['Addiction'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Jp478G2tgz4&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Jack was giving a lecture to another graduating class of SWAT Special Forces Officers which was doubling as a congratulatory gathering for closing the Muralist case. It seemed Will’s attendance was mandatory. Usually this type of thing would just be an anxiety inducing bother, but as his regular Tuesday session with Hannibal was around the corner, it was a welcome distraction.

“I don’t see why I have to dress up with you; I’m not giving the lecture.” Will whined.

Jack scoffed. “Well word on the street is you’ve been dressing up for the last two months, don’t see why it’d be such a bother now.”

Will flushed silently in embarrassment. He finished tying his fancy tie in the anterior changing room before Jack, and waited by the door. It was a Monday night, nearing seven pm and they were behind the packed auditorium listening to the murmurs of the crowd mix with generic elevator music. Jack would be going out soon to deliver warm greetings to the new class of SWAT SFO’s, his colleagues, and even a handful of his superiors. Will was eternally grateful he didn’t have to speak.

“You nervous?” He asked the larger man as he joined Will by the door.

“Eh,” A last adjustment to his jacket was indicative enough. “You would think it’d get easier but…” He shrugged. “I’m gonna say what I wrote and just take it from there. Wish me luck.”

Will chuckled. “Better you than me. Good luck.”

Thankfully, Will was allowed to stay near the wings for most of the program, which limited any socializing. But towards the end, when the lights were up and Jack was taking question from the crowd Will caught a redhead from his peripheral and turned to find a woman looking right at him. Their eyes met and he was surprised to find them placid, interested, and an amazing shade of sky blue. He didn’t even realize they had been staring at each other until clapping brought him back to the present. Normally, he would consider the moment a freak one and beat a hasty exit but…

But Will wanted to be different. He couldn’t just remain the same old introverted hermit. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his asocial tendencies was what abetted his vulnerabilities, and Hannibal would conquer whatever weakness he found. So he took a breath and slowly made his way through the mingling bodies to that bright beacon of short ginger hair.

“Good evening.” He led.

She arched a brow. “Professor Graham, evening.” She had an East Coast, New England accent. He didn’t want to say it was stereotypically Bostonian, but it was close.

Will gave a small smile though he furrowed his brow. “I’ve never had you for a student; I’m pretty sure I would remember you.”

She smiled back. “No, but you did guest lecture on aggressive responses for mentally disturbed suspects about…oh, two years ago? I remember because you stayed and debated with the cohort for almost an hour afterwards. It was _fascinating_.” She arched a brow.

“Ahh, yes.” Will remembered. He’d been a bit disgusted at the gun-toting, trigger happy SWAT veterans that had tried to argue Will down about limiting the aggression toward disturbed suspects. He sipped his watered-down cocktail and shrugged a shoulder. “That was an eventful lecture.”

“Eventful?” She chuckled and moved a bit closer. “You were such a bulldog against men who’d been in the field going on twenty years. I couldn’t believe it, it was amazing. And in the end not one of them had a leg left standing.”

She had a no-nonsense air about her, an open smile and engaging eyes. A solid stance, athletic build and the spatial awareness of a fighter. A predator. Will found himself watching for just a moment before he ducked his head. “Well, yeah, thanks. I’d do it again too. Having actually spent _time_ in an asylum now, I feel like I have an even better idea of how little violence helps.”

She gave a sardonic smile. “Yeah, I bet. I’d love to hear about that,” She stepped just a bit closer, giving Will the distinct feeling he was being pursued. “If you wouldn’t mind of course.”

Will scratched at the back of his neck, flushed and unsure if he should be pleased. “Yeah, no, sure. Maybe over coffee? Um, can I have your name?”

“Oh, duh!” She threw her head back and laughed. “I’m Myra O’Keegan. That’s First Officer O’Keegan, actually; finished in the top fifth percentile.”

Will’s brows went up. “No shit? That’s frankly amazing. I know Jack says the curriculum is grueling.”

“Psht.” She leaned back, casually pulling up her button down to show an, honestly, intimidatingly chiseled abdomen with a large purple and blue splattered bruise. “Got this just a few days ago on the last assessment. The bleedin’ bastards dog piled me, definitely on purpose.”

“Yikes.” Will intoned, sipping his drink and reluctantly ignoring the urge to press at the bruise. “I’m guessing you still made your time?”

“Oh hell yeah.” She let her shirt drop. “It’d take more than four, full grown men to take me down.”

Something about that statement was…

“Really?” Will leaned forward. “Four? I’ll admit I’m intrigued.”

She laughed. “You would be. I could probably bench press you.” She leaned forward as well. “What are you? 130? 140?”

Will scoffed with mock affront. “I am a very healthy 165 pounds, thank you. At least I think.”

“Bull shit.” She laughed. “I’m 160, which is dense for 5’ 9” and you’re barely any taller than me.”

“Oh! So not only are you calling me a liar, you’re also insinuating I’m a _short_ liar.”

“And skinny.” She smirked.

Will found himself laughing. “Officer O’Keegan, I am going to recommend you for a reevaluation, just for that.”

“Oh, God, no! Please.” She placed a hand on his bicep. “I’ll apologize, no more assessments! Coffee, didn’t you say?”

“Yeah.” He found he didn’t mind the contact. He did notice she wasn’t very hesitant at all. He was also suspecting he might have a … type. “Tomorrow? Maybe around lunch? If you’re busy like I am, stopping by the canteen would do just fine.”

“Canteen coffee? Well at least I can be sure my sparkling personality will be the highlight.”

“It is quite terrible.” He cleared his throat. “Um, can I have your number? Just – in case something-”

“No problem, Will.” She smiled at him and held out her hand. He neatly placed his phone within.

On the way home, Will replayed every moment of meeting Myra again and again just to be sure. But no, there was no denying it; she reminded him greatly of Hannibal. If Hannibal had been female and obviously Irish. She was forward, charming and aggressive and Will…Will wondered at possibilities.

He'd meet her for coffee, wearing his new clothes and new cologne.

And then he’d go see Hannibal.

* * *

Hannibal was wary of Will, which was an intriguing theory to accept as a reality; he wasn’t wary of many people at all. Most people didn’t see what Hannibal saw; they looked at Will’s skittering gaze, his ticks and obvious avoidance of eye contact and saw someone on the spectrum; a victim. Hannibal saw his mongoose through and through.

Will was an authentic man; he generally said what he thought and meant what he said. So when he’d told Hannibal there would be a reckoning Hannibal had taken his words to heart.

He just wished the words had been closer to the forefront of his mind that night before he’d decided to ambush Will with Midazolam, in his home. Of course his clever boy had devised an excellent way to avenge his dignity by dragging Hannibal’s through the mud. Spending hours in a sweaty, kaleidoscopically aroused ache while Will committed every moment to his memory? Ingenious revenge, truly. And as delicious as it had been to have sexual contact with his obvious object of obsession, the come down from the high had been a shameful ride home. Both figuratively and literally.

Never before had a man put such dichotomous tastes in his mouth. He’d wanted to murder Will badly all that weekend. The impulse so strong he’d stand gripping the knob of his front door for intermittent hours of the day. And yet the elation of his bearing being so _moved_ ; there had been no other to penetrate his ‘person suit’, to agitate the beast within him to its most basic instincts. Kill, rut, mate, eat. All of which he wanted with Will most intimately. He’d had to put Alana off for the entirety of the weekend, afraid she might not survive a visit.

At dinner it had seemed a bit obvious, what Will was intending. Which had made Hannibal all the more suspicious. Surely his cunning boy had secondary line of attack if he was being so visible with his seduction efforts? The fact that he couldn’t really predict Will with any surety was euphoric, but troublesome. And worth heeding his instincts over.

That night, Hannibal had taken him in, his revamped attire, polished grooming and irritatingly addictive new scent mixture. Disgustingly amused that such an elementary ploy was _working_. And he’d been prepared to simply weather the temptation that was a well-put-together Will Graham for the duration of the evening. So Will shocking him with his bold proposal for Hannibal to leave Alana for him, had seemed simply like an aggressive change in tactics for Will to seize the power in their dynamic. Something he had done quite successfully the week before; something Hannibal still smarted from.

The decision to reject this had been obvious and easy. And when Will had decided to bare his sincerity, he’d startled Hannibal once again. There was power in surrender: in acknowledging one’s weakness. And this was something he would have said, with certainty, that Will Graham would never do.

Will was evolving, right before his very eyes.

It was a lovely prospect.

It was frightening. Will took up so much of Hannibal’s time; always, always, always on his mind. In the sunrise: in his compositions: in his still moments between patients: in the sighs of Alana’s pleasure: in his renditions of the classics. _Always Will Graham._

And though he’d spent all of their meal thinking deeply and watching intently, he’d seen no way to both have Will and have power. Will would subsume him with certainty. And his clever mongoose would know. Hannibal could spend hours upon hours only gazing at the other’s expressive face and petting the wild brown curls of his hair. It was foolish to think he could both have Will and retain the entirety of his self.

Besides, did he not deserve a bit of revenge of his own? There was nothing compelling him to act now. He was reasonably certain that with Will within his sphere, the feelings they shared would not fade. Hannibal wouldn’t let them.

Better to keep Alana between them, at least for now, if for no other reason than to cripple Will and his alarming ability to adapt and evolve.

But his curiosity was piqued. And so Hannibal devised, with an admitted touch of sadism, to orchestrate a visit to Alana for lunch that collided with Will. A little agitation would look lovely on the other man.

What he was not prepared for, was to pass by Quantico’s academic canteen in search of Alana and find Will, face open and smiling, with a young redheaded woman. Hannibal felt himself shocked into the preternatural stillness he had to be careful about displaying. He wasn’t immediately sure he could trust what he was seeing. This was obviously not a meeting between colleagues. The woman had flirtatious body language, aggressively so, and Will was … receptive.

Before he could clearly and deliberately make the decision, his feet carried him over to greet them. “Will. Good afternoon.”

From the startled and immediately guilty expression that the other man fought valiantly to smother, Hannibal was dismayed to realize this was not a ploy. This, tête-à-tête here had not been something planned. Who was this woman? Will hadn’t managed to respond yet, so Hannibal turned to her. “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter, an associate of Will’s. Nice to meet you Ms…?”

“O’Keegan. Nice to meet you.” She looked directly at him with an assessing, if challenging, gaze. Ah. She was perceptive. She didn’t offer her hand and neither did he.

“Hannibal, hey.” Will managed. “You-uh? Why are you here?”

“To see Alana, actually.” His head ticked over to pierce Will with his gaze. “I just happened to see you here. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is?”

Will’s clenched jaw and lowered lashes was delicious but the woman, O’Keegan’s, rapt attention was not. “Uh, no, I’m sure if you try her office you’ll have a better chance of finding her.”

“Of course.” Hannibal had no further reason to linger and, loathe as he was to the notion, he had to leave Will where he was. “Will, I’ll see you later. Miss O’Keegan.” He nodded his farewell and turned on his heels.

This did not bode well. Not at all.

* * *

“An associate, huh?” She turned to him with a raised brow.

“What?” He was sure he looked suspicious as he used his napkin to unnecessarily wipe an imaginary spill under his paper cup.

“An _associate_ wouldn’t look at you like that.” She stated frankly, not sounding offended, thankfully.

“Like what?” he risked a glance at her, his cheeks flushing damningly. He never stood up well under this kind of pressure.

“Uh, like he wanted to eat you alive, maybe figuratively, maybe not.” She laughed when he sputtered, genuinely shocked at her accuracy. “Not that I blame him. That whole dear-in-headlights look is surprisingly cute on you, for you being a middle-aged man and all.”

“Excuse me!” He laughingly exclaimed. “I am not that old. And you’re not that young.”

She didn’t immediately reply but did look him over. “So, was that an ex?” She didn’t blink.

“Uh,” He couldn’t help his need to scratch at his hair. “Not an ex. We were never a …thing. He’s been steady with Alana, as you probably heard.”

“But he clearly has feelings for you.” It wasn’t a question. Will was worried he and Hannibal were a bit more obvious than the two of them had thought.

“Its…complicated. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be vague.”

“No, it’s fine. Things can get that way.” She took a sip of her, no doubt cold coffee; their silence was companionable. “In fact,” she eventually continued. “You’d be complicated. For me anyway.”

Will felt himself stiffen. “What do you mean?” He tried not to sound too defensive.

“Well…” It was her turn to flush and look around. “I uh, don’t usually do … men.”

Will felt his eyes bug before a burst of laughter took him. “You’re joking!”

Myra laughed as well, bright blue eyes open, easy and humorous. “No, no I’m not. I just… you’re cute.”

“Oh my God! You are not insinuating what I think you’re insinuating!” Will turned to face her completely.

She shrugged, a saucy smirk on her face. “I don’t know Professor, what am I insinuating?”

“You know Officer O’Keegan, you’ve done nothing but insult me since we’ve met!” Will was trying to reach for offense, he really was. No one had ever accused him of being feminine before; at least not to his face. Well…at least not since high school. The beard had helped with that.

“No, no! Forgive me.” She reached out again; a surprisingly firm grip took his wrist. “I don’t mean to insult. You’re…uh, what’s the word. … Arresting. Yeah, that’s it.”

Will felt his eyes widen again and he had to look away. “Jesus. You lay it on thick.” He used his other hand to cover as much of his face as he could. “Couldn’t you stick with ‘cute’? I’ve dealt with ‘cute’ before.”

“I’m sure your doctor friend would agree with me. Arresting is definitely the word.”

Will scoffed. “ _So_ ,” he stressed. “You don’t do men. Like ever?” he arched a brow. The idea of being an exception was … intriguing.

“Nah, I’ve had sex with men before. Not that I’m saying we’re gonna have sex anytime soon!” She rushed, but didn’t stop smiling. “Just, they haven’t been my cup of tea for a while now.”

“Ah, okay. Makes sense.” He nodded feeling a little out of the water.

“And you? I mean, I’m guessing you’re bi?”

“Oh.” Will paused. To be perfectly honest he hadn’t actually given it much thought. “I guess. I mean, I haven’t been… _with_ a man before.”

Myra looked at him skeptically. “Not even the hot doctor friend?”

Will found himself laughing; he never laughed about Hannibal. The man evoked much from him, but it was rarely laughter. “No, not even him.”

“Huh. His loss.” She shrugged. A quick glance to her phone told Will what he was already suspecting. They’d already spent the lunch hour together and it felt…he didn’t want it to stop. “Wow.” She said looking up at him.

“Yeah,” He smiled. “I’ve got to go too. But uh, maybe sometime soon?”

“Yeah, Will. I’d like that.” She smiled at him again, standing. And just as Will was floundering with how to properly bid someone he liked a goodbye, she leaned down, unhurriedly and intent, to kiss him on the cheek. She gave a wink. “See you around, Professor.”

It wasn’t until he was finishing up for the day that he began to dread going to see Hannibal. He couldn’t be sure how the other man would react. Meeting Myra hadn’t been planned and to be so soon after declaring his attraction and desire for Hannibal.

Will talked himself both up and down the entire drive into Baltimore and the reluctance had obviously reflected in his driving as he was just under five minutes late.

“Hannibal, sorry. There was a little traffic.” He greeted.

“Not a problem Will. It happens.”

Will decided to grab the bull by the horns. “Uh, if you wouldn’t mind, I don’t want to talk about anything about today.”

He saw how Hannibal stilled near his desk, obviously unhappy. “Is there any reason for that?” Will watched him fiddle with a pencil only to replace it in exactly the same position he had moved it from. Okay, so, he was agitated.

“I just, don’t think it would do us any good.”

“Did you seek her out because I rejected you Will?” Hannibal asked baldly. Pressing, as he always did.

Will walked away toward the back window. “I _don’t_ want to speak about it, Hannibal.”

He hadn’t even had the time to turn back around before Hannibal was only a hair’s breadth from his right shoulder. “Well, I do, Will. What am I to think? I tell you no, so you begin a relationship barely a few days later.”

Will turned to him. “I met Myra at Jack’s lecture. It wasn’t … _planned_. Jeez Hannibal. What does it matter? Like you said, you _rejected_ me. I’m sure your quite smug about it.”

Hannibal stepped forward and Will felt compelled to step back. His heart picked up; he hated that this man could do this to him. “Do I look smug to you, William?”

“Will.” He corrected automatically. “And that doesn’t answer the question. Look, should I go?” It was both a threat and a retreat.

Will watched the other man take a deep breath. He wondered if he could smell Myra on him; oddly, he wasn’t worried for her. Suddenly Hannibal stepped back. “No, no need. Come,” He gestured to the chairs. “Lets talk about your dreams. Are they gaining lucidity still?”

The rest of the session had awkward moments interspersed throughout but ultimately ended on a regular note, so Will didn’t fret over much. Hannibal was still a beautiful man, still attractive when he stood, walked, talked, sat, breathed. Still looked at Will like he could see through him into the back of his skull.

But Will thought that maybe, he could learn to live with that constant thrum of attraction. It wasn’t so unbearable when he looked it directly in the face. It just kind of was what it was. He thought maybe he was beginning to understand things better. They weren’t balanced yet but, Will thought maybe he could get them there.

It helped that at least Will knew he wasn’t _alone_ in the attraction.

* * *

Meeting Myra was often random snatches of coffee, laughter and flirtatious insults. She was indeed a busy woman and sometimes she had an entire hour open while other times she and Will huddled in a hallway with cheap coffee for less than fifteen minutes before she had to be off.

Will had to admit, catching her after team training sessions was…uh, nice. Two weeks in and she’d been fine finding him while she was still toweling off, her short ginger hair spiked and her sleeveless underarmor sticking to her with sweat. Will had gawked obviously and Myra had laughed raucously at him before he fled to teach a lecture.

Their first time having a proper date had been … interesting. Myra lived at one of the dorms a bit south of Quantico so it made sense for Will to drive them both to Baltimore to a family style diner where they had cheap beer and shared a pizza. What was interesting was Myra insisting she pay while Will had honestly felt uncomfortable with the idea. Towards the end he was certain she had only kept insisting to see how long he could blush and splutter before she finally put him out of his misery and gave in. He’d gotten his revenge by boldly taking her chin for a chaste kiss as she’d been getting out the car.

After she’d blinked away her shock at his temerity, she’d laughed and punched him in the arm. “You think you’re suave? Well you’re not, _Professor._ ”

“Night, Myra.” Will had grinned at her.

“Night, Will.” She’d grinned back.

Still, Will did his best to time his dates with her on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. No need to invite trouble; he took William’s advise quite gravely.

He and Hannibal kept to their routine. Will had blatantly refused dinner at the doctor’s house and he’d been amused to watch Hannibal pout for the rest of the evening.

“Have you not had your pound of flesh, Will, for the incident that last occurred at my home? Is it not now water under the bridge?” The man had sniffed, adjusting his coat like an affronted cat would groom their paw; chin raised and eyes narrowed.

“Water under the bridge? Yes.” Will assured with an even tone. “But I am now a wary fish.” Before he’d left, he assuaged the good doctor by regifting some conveniently prissy, expensive chocolates he’d been given by an enthusiastic colleague a few days ago. Will had been carting them around in his bag for just this occasion. “Here, tell me if you don’t like them. I don’t usually go for this kind of thing.”

It had been amusing to watch Hannibal attempt to parse the origin and intentions of the gift with clear suspicion. “No, these are quite nice. Thank you, Will.”

Will smiled, feeling experienced in dealing with Hannibal in a way that was beginning to feel normal. “Sure, Hannibal. See you next week.”

A few days, a few dates and a clandestine consult with Jack later, Will was sitting in his office when there was jaunty knock on his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone so he called his visitor in cautiously. He’d already had no less than five different students attempt to _admire_ him in the last few months and didn’t need much more trouble of that kind. Will was blaming his new wardrobe.

But it wasn’t that kind of trouble, it was Myra. Who was a little flushed and looking just a bit apprehensive. “Hey there, Professor.” She grinned.

“Hey there yourself. You didn’t tell me you were coming, whats up?” Myra usually always checked to see if he was free before she tracked him down.

“Uh, yeah. I just got some news actually.” Instead of sitting in the guest seat she came to lean on his side of the desk. “I’m shipping out. There’s an operation down in Texas with a cartel. It’s considered a level six so, you know, possible-fatality initiative is suggested. It’s my first. Thought I’d come see you.”

Will had to blink at her for a moment before it all caught up with him. “Right.” He looked around before he pushed back from the desk. “When do you leave?”

“Tonight.” Myra looked him over. “Idea’s to begin the operation at oh-four-hundred hours.”

“Myra,” Will stood and swallowed. He was feeling many things and didn’t know what was… appropriate. “I want you to be safe.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no shit, so do I. But I also want something else.” She pushed Will back with surprising force and he fell back into the chair and rolled a pace. He barely had time to react before she was straddling his lap. “Look you can stop me but…I might not come back and…” Her face lowered until their lips danced just a breath away. “Will, please?”

“Yeah,” he breathed back, wondering why he didn’t just press forward and take. What was it that held him back?

He understood when she pressed forward, _taking from him_ , her tongue in his mouth like _she’d_ been holding back for a while now. He let his hands wander to her defined hips, squeezing with the easy assurance that she wasn’t something fragile.

It took no time at all for them to be grinding viciously before Will grabbed her thighs and stood with a surge of passion. His laptop was pushed roughly to the edge of his desk, it dangled precariously but went neglected as Will grinded into Myra. Her hooked legs and crossed boots didn’t give him much room, but she was unwilling to cede any space to him; her thighs were cable-strong and unmoving. He plucked at her fitted SWAT polo. “Please.” He breathed into her.

“No time.” She growled back and reached right for his belt; quick, dexterous fingers made short work of his flies. He blushed when she got her hands around him, ducking his head into her shoulder as she roughly pushed the slacks down his hips. “Oh my, Professor. Who’d a thunk all this was hidden under such an unassuming package.”

He swatted at her thigh before yanking at her pants in revenge. “Don’t be a jerk.” He growled back.

She laughed wildly. “Condoms. In my pocket. No, other pocket.”

Will was opening the little tin foil with his teeth when she snatched it from him and boldly began to roll it on to him. He pressed his middle two fingers into the sopping slit of her as petty revenge. She gave a surprisingly loud grunt and Will laughed, pushing his face into her neck. “Shhh, Myra, fuck. Oh God, you didn’t lock the door did you?”

“I sure fucking did. Don’t you see how cleverly I planned this? Now come on, gimme some of this scholarly dick.” She snarked, pulling at him.

“Christ, shut up.”

He pushed into her slowly but steadily and paused when she braced a hand on the back of his neck. “Ho-hold on. Fuck, it’s been a minute. Most of my dildos are smaller than you.”

Will bit his lip to keep himself in check. “Jesus, Myra, you’re not helping.”

She laughed again. “Been a while for you, Professor Graham? Well come on, gimme something for the road.”

He leaned upward, staring right into the severe but open, freckled face he’d been coming to truly care about. “Yeah okay. Just remember you asked.”

It _had_ been a while but a few thrusts later it was like riding a bike. Myra was a demanding, talkative, but affable lover. She asked him to change his angle, to kiss her, to suck her harshly on her shoulder, to cup her breasts from under her shirt, to hold her hips with enough grip for her to feel it. It was… refreshing, to be so explicitly guided. And Will felt more than accomplished when he made her come hard enough to have her locked legs trembling against him. He finished easily with a full body shudder and a stifled groan against her shoulder.

She didn’t hurry him off of her but eventually he could tell she was cramping so they separated and attempted to…tidy up. They didn’t really need to speak, it was comfortable. He kissed her at the door and asked her to please come back. She smiled and promised to do the best she could.

It wasn’t until Will was just barely saving his laptop from the corner of the desk that he remembered it was a Tuesday.

“Oh fuck.” He breathed, eyes wide and huge staring at the time. He had an oddly clear moment of William’s voice coming over him, cautioning him to be wary. Will had no idea what Hannibal losing his temper even _looked_ like and, God willing, he’d never see it. It was too late to cancel, it would look suspicious and Will didn’t want Hannibal’s suspicion.

Five o’clock on the dot. He had over an hour and a half before he needed to be on the road. That should be sufficient to clean up in the bathroom and hope the…smells dissipated. Two and half hours was a long time, and if he was thorough it should work.

Right?


	8. Everything or Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been such a great ride!! As always, inspired by 'OnMyOwn'. Can't wait to hear from you guys~~
> 
> Happy Reading!

CHAPTER EIGHT: EVERYTHING OR NOTHING

['OnMyOwn'](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=aG3cWTyYsrI&list=PL1Pip7bG6sYBu900oxZma5bu9oqks09Ov)

Willy blinked into consciousness and when he found he was back in that grey/blue nothingness he was relieved. So, so relieved. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping well either; it had been everything he could do to maintain his standard of course work. He needed guidance; he needed help.

The meeting of his soulmate had rattled him terribly, he admitted. He couldn’t help feeling like he wasn’t handling this half as well as he was supposed to. That part of himself, the one that _saw_ , couldn’t let go the feeling of imminent danger. It was making him a twitchy, paranoid mess. He looked around and rolled over when he heard the shuffling behind him.

Both of those older versions were just sitting up.

“Oh wow, really?” That was uh, the prison version that looked like he definitely wasn’t in prison anymore so…Will guessed he would just cede the ‘Will’ name to him. He could live with being ‘Willy’ if it meant they would _help_ him.

“Hey,” Willy said crawling over.

William looked them both over. “Well, you both are looking much different than the last times I saw you.”

“Yeah…” Will muttered, he was staring directly at him. “When’s the last time you slept kid? I know we can look half-dead when it gets bad but you’re scaring even me.”

“Yeah, I’m not. That’s-that’s the issue.” Willy scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I met _him._ ” He felt himself shudder, disturbed that he was genuinely tearing up. “I – I’m sure he would have killed me. I just barely made it out alive but…” He found himself fading to a whisper.

“You don’t feel safe?” William questioned. Willy shook his head, eyes wide. William sighed and patted his shoulder. “That’s because you aren’t, Doll.”

“Well, wait, tell us what happened.” Will pressed.

Willy spent the next few moments taking them through the beginning of his innocuous European tour, surprised to learn that Will had done the same in his world, but William hadn’t. Then the pure coincidence of fate that had Will stumbling right into their monster in front of the infamous Botticelli painting. “I fucked up. Made him suspicious, must of set off all kinds of flags with my bumbling and frankly _dumbass_ mistakes. He zeroed in on me instantly!” Willy found himself almost wailing by the end.

“Hmm,” William shook his head. “He probably felt something similar to what you did. Don’t blame yourself too much. Even if you had played the part of a stranger perfectly, he would have stalked you. He would have been instantly attracted you and he experiences true attraction seldomly. It would have warranted further investigation no matter what you did.”

Willy was silent for a while just staring. He let that sink in. “So…nothing would have changed?”

“Probably not.” William leaned his head to and fro’, “Most likely just how he came at you. At least this way you saw him coming. So what, he threatened you in the Gallery?”

“No!” Willy took them through the rest. The all-night vigil in his room just to find the creepy fucker loitering right outside his window.

“Oh wow. He waited for you to acknowledge him.” That was Will looking a bit surprised. “Mine would have just waited until I fell asleep to grab me. He’s a sneaky fucker.”

“They're always fucking sneaky.” William snarked and shook his head. “I don’t like this, he _did_ wait for you to acknowledge him, but why? I mean, that means _something_ can’t say for sure what but…it’s significant.”

Will jolted and leaned forward. “He’s sadistic.” He rasped, eyes big. “He waited for you because he wanted to see you afraid. Wanted to _savor_ it.” Will shook his head. “I don’t think mine would do that.”

William chewed his bottom lip. “Nor mine.” They both sounded worried and Willy was officially freaking the fuck out. “You might be dealing with a version further along on the spectrum, Doll.”

“But…” Willy’s eyes flitted between the both of them. “I thought that was just because I had the door covered…?”

Will hummed while William gave a slow shake of his head. “Uh, no Doll. He would have come right through the front door, bold as you please, if he wanted. The fact that he didn’t was a choice.”

“Oh what the fuck! What do I do?!” He threw his hands up. “He let me go but, somehow he’d gotten my whole name and I’m pretty sure he knew where I was from so when he asked me I didn’t lie!”

William clutched his shoulder and then gripped his chin. “Did he ask you for your address?”

“Not-not like the street address. But he did ask me where ‘home’ was and I told him New Orleans.”

“Aaahrgh!” Will groaned and looked to the sky. “You could have told him Louisiana! It’s a big fucking state! And if he pressed, any other fucking town than the one you live in!”

“I- I panicked!” Willy shouted back.

“Shh,” William started rubbing his back vigorously. “No point whining over spilled milk, whats done is done. How long ago was that for you?”

Willy clutched at his hair. “Uh, that was, like almost a month ago now. I haven’t _seen_ him anywhere. He might…he might not come for me _immediately,_ right?”

No one spoke for a few moments. The two elder iterations exchanged looks while William continued to soothe the youngest.

Will spoke next, he looked to William. “You mentioned a spectrum. You mean, like, on psychosis?”

“Mm, No.” William shook his slowly, releasing his bun and running his hands through his hair to self soothe. “Its like…uh. Okay for simplicities sake, we’ll use the values of ‘stable’ and ‘chaos’. I would use ‘righteous’ and ‘evil’ but it really just doesn’t work.” He took a deep breath and looked upward. “The way it was explained to me, in order for there to be balance, the further along one of us is on the spectrum, the other will match.” William looked back to Willy. “So if your Hannibal is more…sadistically chaotic, you’ll have a way to balance that.

Willy quivered for a moment, fingers flexing in the dull green grass. “Is that why I can _see_?” He emphasized.

The other two exchanged looks again. “What do you mean?” Will asked. “Like, empathy or…?”

Willy swallowed. “I don’t know, if its different from y’all but. Like sometimes I just look at someone and I can _see_ inside.” He huffed, frustrated with himself. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s always been there, even as a kid.”

“Its okay, calm down.” William resumed rubbing his back. “I don’t have that, neither of us do.” He looked to Will to confirm. “But it sounds like yes, this was gifted to you to keep balance.”

“Okay but how does it _help_?” Willy stressed. There was no answer.

“Okay,” William started, keeping his voice low and calm. “Is Daddy still alive in your world?”

Willy gave a jolt and stared at William in horror. “Of course he is! What do you mean!?”

“Shh, I’m just asking because its different for each us when it happens. We always change when we lose him, not matter how good or bad of a father he is. That’s reality, Doll, you need to come to grips with that.”

Willy shrugged him off, feeling his heart thud in his chest. “DOES HANNIBAL KILL HIM?!”

Even Will seemed concerned by this thought, sitting up on his knees. William shook his head and wrestled Willy back to his side for more forceful soothing. “No! Not in any version I’ve seen. Much as Hannibal won’t say it, he loses his parents young and it changes him; he wouldn’t do that to you unless he felt like he had no choice.”

“Ugh, what does that even mean?!” Willy slumped back into his elder version. “I don’t want this.” He lamented.

“I know Doll, but it’s required of us.” William whispered. He gave sigh, crushing Willy to him. “And Hannibal, he can make us truly, ridiculously happy if we groom him right.”

Will sat back down. “Hmm, about that. It doesn’t appear we have to be romantically involved.”

Willy felt William still. “What do you mean by that?” The elder asked, seeming genuinely confused. “Of course we do.”

“No, we don’t.” Will stated plainly. “I’m not. Hannibal refused to give up Alana and instead of just throwing myself at his feet I’m keeping him close but platonic.”

“ _Platonic?_ ” William gaggled. “There is nothing platonic about our connection. Whatever you may think is working is not going to _keep_ working, I can assure you that.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t think so. Its been a few weeks now and I’m even seeing someone else.”

That got William to gasp, sitting forward. “ _Are you crazy?_ You’re going to get them killed!”

Will pushed his hands forward. “I worried about that but she…she’s like him. A predator—”

“I doesn’t matter! He’s not going to tolerate it, Will!”

“Well he’s been tolerating it for weeks!” The other shot back.

William shook his head and Willy’s eyes bounced between them. “You mark my words, you’re heading for shits’ creek you keep that up.”

Will threw his hands up. “I don’t know what you want me to do! He _rejected_ me! For Alana, plainly in straight forward language. I’m not going to chase him for the rest of my life! That’s not even a life worth living!” Will was panting by the end and Willy wondered if he should feel relieved that he wasn’t the only one struggling.

William didn’t seem to have words, just kept shaking his head. Will turned to Willy. “Listen, if romance works, fine but if it doesn’t, it fucking doesn’t. Don’t spend your life chasing Hannibal fucking Lecter.”

William sighed and gripped his own hair. “I’m not saying to do that.”

“That’s what it fucking sounds like.” Will snarked.

William raised a hand. “We’re disagreeing, but I think out of the three of us, I have the most insight in whats viable. I’m not saying that to be a shit, I’m saying I’ve been walking since I was a _child_.” He stressed. “I’ve meet doezens of us, **dozens**.” He leaned forward sparing Willy an intense look but concentrating on Will. “Never, has Hannibal Lecter been fine to concede us to another. Not once he has us in his sights.” He shook his head. “ **Never**.”

Now Will was starting to look nervous which was pushing Willy’s anxiety through the roof.

“Then I—" Will paused to lick his lips and look away. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Willy collapsed against William. They couldn’t help him, not even here.

“There’s always a way.” William clutched Willy to him. “Both of you need to think and plan. You are capable, its why we are chosen. We are each unique but our cores are the same. Have _courage_. Hannibal can be frightening but he is human whether he thinks so or not. He can be scared, he can be distracted, he can be enticed and he can be trained.”

When there was silence for long moments William shook Willy and pushed him back to look him in the eyes. “If Hannibal is coming for you then you need to be ready. Set boundaries. Protect your weaknesses but be prepared for Hannibal to find them and exploit them. Remember you are your own most valuable asset. Build up a network of people; allies and expendables that will come in handy. And remember he is naught but a clever beast in the end. You both hear me?”

Willy wiped at his face, frustrated and resigned to his tears. He nodded and looked to Will who looked, perhaps, just as devastated as he did. But the other man was nodding too.

“Come on.” William sighed. “Its time for us to go home.”

* * *

When Will woke he knew instantly that something was _wrong_. Like his body had gone from absent to flight mode in now time at all. Before he even opened his eyes he registered, with a stuttered inhale, a weight on top of his chest. He swallowed, and slowly, slowly opened his eyes.

“Hello, Will.” Hannibal greeted, eyes dead and face blank. “Nice of you to join me.”

“Hannibal.” He whispered, both confused and warily, dreadfully aware of why he might here. Depending on the actual time, this was the same night of his appointment.

“Your pulse was shocking low, and I was unable rouse you for over ninety minutes, though I could smell no medication or disease as the cause.” The doctor informed him casually. “I was oscillating between calling an ambulance and simply throttling you to death.” He leaned down suddenly. “I still haven’t made up my mind.” The man still wasn’t blinking.

Will felt himself shaking and knew he must stink of fear. _‘Have courage’,_ he told himself and took a breath, blinking rapidly before he spoke in a whisper. “I’m surprised, Doctor. I don’t know you to be unable to make up your mind.”

Hannibal gave a small huff, looking both amused and not. “It’s always been terrible difficult to make up my mind about you, Will Graham.” When Will didn’t respond he sat back up, towering over him, hands resting lax on his thighs, his full weight dispersed over Will’s torso. “Tell me Will, did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or did you do it to provoke me?” He didn’t give Will any time to respond before he was leaning back down with a snarl. “Because if you did, well done. I’m officially _provoked_.”

Ahh, so this was indeed about Myra. Will was so fucked.

“Hannibal.” He shifted and the other man snarled pressing down more and shoving his bared teeth so close to Will that he had to turn his face into his pillow. “I – it wasn’t planned.” He whispered. “She was going away on a potentially fatal mission and—and I just forgot, m-miscalculated. I tried to wash up before hand; I didn’t want to be rude.”

“But you were!” Hannibal snarled loudly. The volume did well to ratchet up Will’s trembling as he hadn’t ever heard Hannibal raise his voice. “You were _unaccountably_ rude! Coming into my office, my _space,_ stinking of sex and sweat with that _girl._ I had to air the office out for hours! I have never once done that you. By your very request I have kept everything pertaining to Alana _separate_ from you out of deference to your feelings and you do **this**?”

When Will shut his eyes, unable to physically retreat any further, Hannibal snatched up an handful of his hair and yanked none-too-gently, making him face forward. “ _Answer me._ ” He honest to goodness growled.

Will trembled, his eyes wide and his body shaking. He could see, now, why William had been so wary about provoking him in this manner. “I’m sorry.” He whispered not knowing what else to do or say. Either Hannibal would kill him or he wouldn’t. Will didn’t even have a way to defend himself as prone and pinned as he was. “I didn’t—it wasn’t on purpose Hannibal. I _swear_.”

Hannibal shook his head like a ragdoll. “I don’t know if I believe you, Will.”

When Hannibal stopped shaking him, Will took a moment to breathe and control his nausea. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the beast above him. “Then lets—” His voice broke and he swallowed to try again. “Lets call it even. Even stevens.” When Hannibal stilled and cocked his head, Will felt encouraged. “I’ll let go of incarcerating me in the asylum if you let of this…indiscretion. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Meaning?” He pushed.

Will blinked. “We’ll go back to how we were, before toni—uh, last night.” He corrected with a glance at the clock; he took a breath. “You keep Alana separate and I’ll make sure to keep Myra the same.”

He has scarcely finished before Hannibal was back to snarling in his face, lifting Will up so that their lips touched. “I don’t **want** you with her!”

Will felt himself fall still in confusion. _‘Surely he doesn’t mean…?’_ He stared at Hannibal and then all of a sudden it hit him. “What the fuck, Hannibal?!” He snarled back, smashing his forehead against the other’s. The doctor blinked and leaned back in surprise. “You’re the fucking one who fucking rejected me, you fucker! You’re with Alana! I _asked_ you to leave her for me, I practically begged you!” 

He wiggled and squirmed in outrage until finally Hannibal was forced to release him and sit back on his legs as Will jack-knifed himself up. Hannibal gave a snarled huff. “So you _did_ just engage her because I rejected you!”

“So the fuck what if I did!” Will cut his hand in the air. “You think I’m just going to sit around and mope over you? Get over yourself! You don’t want me? Fine! I’ll find someone who does!”

Hannibal surged forward. “They don’t deserve you, you’re _mine_.”

Will got both feet in front of him just in time and shoved back with all his might. “No, I’m not because you rejected me, asshole!”

They both panted in furious silence from opposite ends of the bed. The dogs were now up, and growling softly in front of the fireplace; a bit late if you asked him. Will was firing each one of them from guard duty.

Hannibal managed to prowl without moving; shoulders rolling as if getting ready to pounce. Will watched him avidly. Finally the doctor spoke. “Then I shall suggest another compromise. We each give their women up. I will release Alana and you release _Myra_.” He spat her name as if she were something unclean.

Will was tempted to be obstinate, fuck Hannibal getting his way just because he was feeling salty about Will fucking someone else when he’d been bedding Alana every other night for months. But he didn’t want to press his luck because he just wasn’t certain what extremes Hannibal was willing to go to.

Will narrowed his eyes back. “Just like that? We dump our women and start dating?”

“Hah, no.” Hannibal smirked something truly wicked and took one prowling crawl forward. Will tensed. “I was thinking all that time you were comatose before me. Its not enough for you and I to be so _tenuously_ connected. No.” Hannibal took another prowl forward, close now to Will’s spring loaded legs. “I demand we become much closer than simple dating.”

Will remained quiet, warily watching as Hannibal placed hands on his knees and pressed down with all his weight, forcefully straightening Will’s legs and decreasing the space between them. Will’s next inhale was shaky and his gut clenched. Hannibal waited until he was back in Will’s face, their lips brushing when he whispered. “We each leave our women and then, Will, I demand that you marry me.”

Will’s hands automatically connected with Hannibal’s shoulders, pushing to show his shock, thought the other man didn’t budge. “You—marry you? Hannibal…” Will leaned back, his eyes flitting between Hannibal’s. “You can’t be serious?”

“As a heart attack.” The other man intoned, face still as stone and just as sober.

Will was silent for a while, his mind racing as Hannibal waited him out. “That won’t fix the problems between us, Hannibal.” He rejoined sagely. “And I won’t marry you until I have your word.”

The doctor’s head cocked slightly. “My word in what?”

Will’s brows furrowed. “That you will honor and respect me. Put my wants, needs and happiness **before** your curiosity and machinations.” He scoffed with a toss of his head. “I want your vowels _first,_ Hannibal.” Will leaned forward then, past that tiny space until their lips were touching once again. “Of course, I’ll do the same and _then_ I’ll marry you. Be yours and only yours until death do us part.” He leaned back again to make eye contact and swear gravely. “But not a moment before.”

Hannibal watched him intently. For how long, Will couldn’t be sure as every heartbeat felt like an eon unto itself. Finally Hannibal spoke, his hands gripped Will’s thighs almost painfully.

“I swear, William Graham, upon my honor and my name, to love, honor, respect and cherish, your livelihood, your happiness and your future so long as you are mine, until death do us part.”

Will felt his eyes widen, his jaw fell slack, his heart pounded in his ear. Somehow…he hadn’t actually expected Hannibal to do it. Every other time, _every single time_ Will had asked him to swear by him, he hadn’t gone through with it. When the man snarled at Will’s inaction, he jumped and clutched at Hannibal’s arms just to steady himself.

He closed his eyes, gathered his courage and swallowed his apprehension; there was no room left for doubt. Have courage. This had to be done. He breathed out.

“I swear, Hannibal Lecter, upon my honor and my name,” He opened his eyes and met the whiskey gaze of the beast before him. “to love, honor, cherish and behold you, your happiness, and the way you see the world so long as you are mine, until death do us part.”

Will watched the other’s eyes widen in genuine surprise. This vow was a better fit for Hannibal, an acknowledgement of his passions against the drudge of humanity. A moment later Hannibal whispered. “Then we shall be wed?”

“Yes.” Will breathed against him.

“Soon?” Hannibal leaned forward, his lips skimming over his cheek, down his jaw to his neck. And though Will had showered when he’d gotten home, he wondered if the man could still detect Myra in his skin.

“Yes.” Will whispered to the air, his body trembling as Hannibal pushed him down flat on the bed.

“And you will never see her again?” Was growled against his shoulder.

“No.” Will felt a short pull before the sound of his shirt being rent filled the air. He exhaled shakily at the savagery; Hannibal hadn’t even paused. Large, hot, proprietary hands gripped his waist and then dragged down to his hips pushing the waistband of his boxers along with them.

“And are you mine?” Hannibal snarled against the bare skin of his chest, his hot breath awaking an animal response in Will’s hindbrain. Will was reminded of Hannibal’s rather sharp canines.

“Yes.” He whispered and gasped as Hannibal scraped a prickly jaw down his torso, hands not at all hesitant to push his boxers down his thighs.

Hannibal licked a strip from one pelvic bone to the other. “Whose?” he asked at Will’s groin.

“Y—yours.” Will’s shaking spiked both from adrenaline and pleasure as Hannibal licked and…smelled him, dragging the boxers off and pushing his legs up and open. Hannibal was scenting him, there just wasn’t any other word for it; he’d seen his dogs doing it enough to know what it looked like. The other was taking loud sniffs of him from the thick patch of dark hair above his cock, to the corner of a trembling thigh, down over his drawn balls to the tightly clenched pucker of his ass. Will gave a yelp when there was a long, bold lick right over his hole.

“Again. Say it again.” Hannibal growled into his skin.

“Y-y—” He clutched at Hannibal’s head in overwhelmed apprehension. It was the first time anyone had touched him there. Despite what others probably thought, he hadn’t ever been brave enough to … experiment. He hadn’t even ever touched himself there. Hannibal clutched his thighs and shook him hard, once, to encourage him to restart. “Yours, Hannibal. I’m yours.” He gasped out.

The man resurfaced and easily flipped him over, Will felt dizzy both inside and out. “Forever and always. Say it.” Hannibal was leaning over, roughly opening Will’s end table to root around. It wasn’t until he reached the second drawer he found Will’s old, half used tube of lube; it was oddly shameful though he couldn’t place why.

“Forever and always, Hannibal. I promise please…” Will faltered when the other popped the cap open and squirted the cool liquid directly on the small of his back. Will pushed his face into his pillows and decided to remain docile. For a multitude of reasons, Will was sure Hannibal needed this. Needed him to submit just like this. It wasn’t lost on him that this was a nearly inverted, reciprocal situation to the last time they had been intimate in his home. Hannibal was still fully dressed for Christsake. Will relaxed the tension in his shoulders, his back, his legs and his ass as much as consciously could. “Hannibal, please don’t be cruel.” He asked, voice small and smothered.

For a moment there was nothing but silence. And then a heavy warmth against his back. A rumbling against his ear.

“I wouldn’t, Will. I made a vow.” Hannibal said solemnly just before his hot hand began to push the lube down and then, after a few moments, _in._

A hand in his hair kept his head turned sideways and Hannibal watched him raptly, unblinking, while he fingered Will. He was patient, but didn’t tarry. Will couldn’t help the whimpers when his prostate was passed over, couldn’t help but clench and bear down and wiggle and tear at his sheets with spazzing fingers of his own.

It seemed forever later that Hannibal was rising off his back. “Up, please. In the classic lordosis.” He said, helping Will’s shaky limbs along by pulling up his hips.

Will thought he might get some warning but there was nothing until the blunt pressure of Hannibal slowly, _slowly_ pushing in. Will keened, pressing his forehead against the mattress, the muscles in his back rolling him forward to escape. He didn’t feel _ready_ , though he didn’t know if that was a physical feeling so much as the enormity of what was taking place.

“Shh, none of that.” Hannibal’s hands, God they felt like brands, ran up and down his back and thighs. “Be still, let me savor you.” Will tried, he really tried. It felt like it took hours just for the man to be fully seated. “Hmm,” Hannibal hummed behind him. “Yes, just like that. Will, you look exquisite.”

“Please.” Will begged aimlessly; he had no idea what to even ask for.

“Shhh, let me take care of you.” Hannibal whispered, rolling his hips with a sinuousness belied by the stillness he always kept.

Will didn’t have much to contribute. As he adjusted and relaxed, he let his shoulders take the majority of his weight, pushing his hands up and creating such classically submissive posture that Hannibal’s beast was sure to be sated. He didn’t hold back his voice, didn’t hold on to his ego. He gave it all up, good and bad, right and wrong, for behaviorism, survival and the satiation of his new fiancé.

This was his way forward. His path to domestic peace. His design. 

Just the idea sent heat spiraling and his gut clenched and his ass clutched at the thick, steady thrusts of Hannibal’s cock. He pushed against his headboard, chest pressing down into the sheets and back elongating. He didn’t hold back one bit, did try to contain his passions, and didn’t give a word of warning as he shook in ecstasy and came untouched, riding the high of his victory. He’d _won._

Will felt a weighty hand press down on the middle of his back and Hannibal growled. “Cunning boy. Not telling me how close you were.”

Will laughed into this bed. “Come on Doctor,” He panted, breath unsteady as Hannibal began to really pound at him. His nerves zinged with each moment past his orgasm. “It’s—sss—late and – uh—we have work—t—tomorrow—oh!”

Hannibal fell forward, sharp teeth scraping barely over the skin of his shoulder. Will bared his neck to make room. “Say it.” Hannibal moaned, his hips becoming erratic and his grip becoming painful in its strength. Will didn’t mind.

“I’m yours, Ha—Hannibal. Ju—Just yours.” He bit at the sheets to keep his whimpers in. God, he needed Hannibal to come now, his legs were growing numb.

“Mine.” Was growled against him and Will reached back to clutch one hand in Hannibal’s hair.

“Yo— _Yours!_ ” Will screeched when Hannibal bit, expecting it though he was, didn’t mean it hurt any less. Will panted, the breath knocked out of his by Hannibal’s last shoves forward. He felt well and truly claimed. There just wasn’t any other word for what this was. And something in him relaxed like … coming home. He moaned at the peace, his mind drifting even as Hannibal levered himself up and slowly pulled out. He whined in discomfort.

Even with his eyes closed and prostrate, he was aware of Hannibal looming over him hands running up and down his body as the man studied him. “Mm, tired, Hannibal. Wanna go to sleep.” He mumbled.

“Of course.” The man murmured back. “Let me find something to clean us up.” Will left him to it, remaining perfectly lax as his fiancé took care of it. Took care of him. This was his reward.

When everything was still and Hannibal was cautiously sliding under the covers of Will’s bed, Will turned and pressed himself chest to chest, his face into the thicket of his lover’s chest hair. “Hannibal?” He mumbled into his skin.

“Yes?” Somehow the man sounded cautious as if his own actions were only just now catching up to him. Had Will had the energy he would have smirked.

“Gonna have to tell you about the walking. S’why you couldn’t wake me up.”

The man beneath him grew still, his chest not even moving with breath. “Walking?” He seemed both apprehensive and intrigued.

“In the morning.” Will pressed forward just to be closer. He’d always wanted to be closer. “Now sleep.”

Hannibal gave an amused huff. “Yes, Love.”

At that, Will did smile.

* * *

William rubbed at his temples in exasperation. Today was just a goddamn long day and it was only 4pm which meant there was still more of it to go. He’d been tense lately, for the last couple weeks or so. He’d found himself, oddly, hoping that one of his other iterations would pull him so he could check on them. God, he hoped they were okay.

He was currently alone in the house, a rare treat, and usually he was able to use the opportunity to hyper focus. Hannibal had the kids out to seem some Disney movie which meant no sticky fingered requests to play from the twins: no batting eyelashes accompanying a sweet worded request from his weaseling baby girl: and no looming, raptor husband to silently demand his attention. Will sniffed, appalled that they had barely been gone and hour and already he was missing his family.

He sighed; he was getting sappy as he aged.

His thoughts were broken by the stark ringing of the house phone. They only had three, one in each of their offices and one in the kitchen. Usually, Will hated answering the house phone but there was no one else here to do it so he rolled his eyes and reached for it.

“Good evening, Lecter residence.” He intoned, he had to be polite as any number of influential people called this line, but he didn’t have to sound _happy_.

“Oh!” A chirpy voice exclaimed. “Sorry, I was looking for Dr. Hannibal Lecter? Are you…” She sounded confused.

Will rolled his eyes. “This is Will, his husband. He’s away right now.”

“Oh, yes! Okay, sorry, I didn’t know! He said to call after my shift if I had any questions and there was an interesting anomaly on the Schrieger patient we’d been—”

“Can I take a message for you?” Will cut her off, already exasperated. She sounded barely able to drive, let alone drink and her squeaking was making his headache worse.

“Yes, yes, thank you. If you could just tell him I called. Oh! And thanks for volunteering to be my mentor! I can already tell we’ll be a great fit!”

Will felt himself still and go quiet. After a moment he spoke. “Sure, sure I’ll do that. I just need your name, Ms…?”

“Oh, yes, duh!” She laughed. “My name’s Alana Bloom.”

**To Be Continued.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yessss! So! This will be part of a series; Inevitability & Balance. Some good news is I already have much of the second installation mapped out. Some not so good news is I'm going to take a break, probably about a month or so, before I start working on it again. 
> 
> I also might add some pics and muse boards to this piece as well, I'm not sure yet. Anyway this was so super fun and I'll be making time to respond to some reviews a little later. 
> 
> Ciao!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loooooove~


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